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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493517">The Enemy Within</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hallowedhuntress/pseuds/hallowedhuntress'>hallowedhuntress</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>No Vegetarians Allowed [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dark, Didyme is Alive, Disturbing Themes, Gen, I try to keep all characters in character, Lawful Neutral Volturi, Minor Character Death, Moral Dilemmas, Mystery, POV First Person, Plot Twists, Some humans die, Spoilers are not tagged, Suspense, The Volturi Are Right, Vampire Science, Vampire Vegetarianism isn't Viable, Volterra, Volturi!Alice, examining the inner workings of the Volturi, no beta we die like men, no vampires tho, slight AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:41:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>100,650</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493517</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hallowedhuntress/pseuds/hallowedhuntress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bella is struggling to adapt to her new life as a vampire and a member of the Volturi. And since Alice’s revelation that the survival of the vampire race rests on her shoulders, she’s been under a lot of pressure. But even if it is for the greater good, killing people isn’t easy. And as Bella prepares to face down a newborn army, she begins to uncover more unpleasant truths about vampire history that make her question if she really is doing the right thing. </p><p>A continuation of the story: The Luxury of Mercy. (Which should be read first).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Afton/Chelsea (Twilight), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Other Canon Relationships</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>No Vegetarians Allowed [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690288</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the second part of a series and I really don't think it will make much sense if you haven't read the first part. Also, I tried really hard to make this a two-parter, but it didn't work so there's three parts now, oops.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>CHAPTER ONE: INDUCTION</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It wasn’t just physically that I would never fit in… </em>
</p><p>
  <em>…If I couldn’t find a niche in a school with three thousand people, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What were my chances here?</em>
</p><p>Bella, Twilight Chapter 1</p><p>…</p><p>When the sun reached its zenith in the sky—something I could <em>feel</em>, even underground—Alice turned to me and asked. “How are you holding up?”</p><p>I winced at her question. I knew exactly what she was referring to—how well I was adjusting to my new identity as a killer. And the truth wasn’t pretty.</p><p>“Not so good,” I said, staring pointedly at the floor. </p><p>The weirdly resonant sound that was my voice now still caught me off guard. And I was sure at some point it was going to startle Alice too. Never before had I sounded so much like an angelic choir.</p><p>But she didn’t miss a beat. “Don’t worry,” she replied in a soothing voice, rubbing my shoulder delicately. “It will get easier. And you’re already <em>way </em>ahead of Carlisle.”</p><p>I smiled wryly at this. If by “way-ahead” Alice meant that I didn’t have any religious objections to drinking human blood, then she was right. If there was a God—and that was a question I fiercely refused to confront with any real depth while I was still on earth—then I wasn’t interested in being bogged down by his rules. I would decide for myself what I thought was right, thank you very much.</p><p>But if Alice was trying to imply that I was already well on my way toward accepting human death as a regular, casual part of life, then no. I was not “way ahead”. In fact, on that front, I was three steps behind.</p><p>I didn’t have to believe my soul was in jeopardy to believe something was fundamentally wrong with killing people. All the descriptions I’d heard of Hell didn’t sound all that frightening anyway. Especially not after I’d endured the pain of venom—nothing could possibly be worse than that.</p><p>So, it wasn’t <em>fear </em>that prompted my previous good behavior and my current unwillingness to kill. But basic humanity. Or what was left of it, anyway.</p><p>I’d grown up all my life, surrounded by humans. Good ones, too, mostly. They were my parents, my friends, my teachers, the kind cashiers who thanked me for my purchases and told me to have a nice day, the familiar giggles I heard whenever I went to the mall… </p><p>Sure, there were bad ones too—like the rapists and murderers Edward had hunted during his rebellious phase. And maybe he had been right, maybe <em>they </em>deserved to die. But, although I didn’t have the insight his gift provided, I was pretty sure my singular victim wasn’t like that. That he was at the very least, a sort of decent person. </p><p>I winced again. It <em>hurt</em> to know that I had snuffed out a life that had done nothing wrong. That his growth as a person was stopped short. That he would never utter another word. Never see his family or friends—if he had any—again. Never set foot outside these castle walls. That I’d robbed him of a long, potentially fulfilling future, for nothing other than my own voracious appetite.</p><p>It made me feel sick. And no amount of callous justification could console me.</p><p>While I roiled in discomfort, Alice looked at her watch—a fancy silver coil studded with diamonds that snaked around her wrist. Then she tapped me lightly on the shoulder, to get my attention, and jabbed a pale thumb in the direction of my bedroom door.</p><p>“Aro is expecting us soon. We should probably get going.”</p><p>I blinked in shock at the news—an old human habit that was stunningly hard to break. “<em>Expecting </em>us?” It was impossible to keep the horror out of my tone. “What does he want?”</p><p>“He wants to go over strategy, you know, prepare for the upcoming battle?” Alice informed me patiently. “He’s going to need me there of course, to show him and probably his brothers as many possibilities for victory as I can. And he’ll want you there, too, since you play a pretty crucial role in all this.”</p><p>I nodded a little glumly. That was what had gotten me into this mess in the first place. I wasn’t sure if Alice and I would have ever even met if it wasn’t for her visions of me acting as some kind of savior of the entire vampire race in this upcoming fight. She might have left the Cullens long before I ever came to Forks, once it was obvious that Edward was not interested in a lifestyle change.</p><p>“What should I wear?” I asked, gesturing limply to myself.</p><p>I was wearing the same thing I’d worn the night before—a puffy, frilly white shirt, tight black pants, and flat, calf-high boots. And my hair and makeup from then was still pristine—one of the few perks of not having to sleep anymore.</p><p>But I knew Alice wasn’t going to be happy with me just looking gorgeous. She would want my first formal event involving the entire guard to knock them out of the park.</p><p>“What you have on is good,” Alice said, appraising my outfit happily. “Though, it could use a little something…”</p><p>Alice suddenly leapt up from the bed where we’d both been sitting on, to grab the huge, gilt-framed mirror propped against the east wall, and place it directly in front of me. Then she darted over to my vanity, and began rifling through hundreds of velvet-lined boxes of expensive jewelry. She grabbed a handful and trotted back over to the bed, spreading them out over the purple covers. Then she grabbed my right hand and started trying different things on—rings, bracelets, broaches—to achieve stylistic perfection.</p><p>I rolled my eyes at her efforts. This wasn’t <em>Project Runway. </em></p><p>And even if it was, no one would be looking at me next to Alice. Her hair, rather than being in its usual spiky do, had been smoothed into short, elegant pin-curls around her face. Her makeup was especially on-point—fierce eyeliner and dark lips. And underneath an old black cloak—one I suspected she’d dug out of the back of her closet from her earlier Volturi days—she wore a bold, geometric-print jacket, red leather pants, and towering black stilettos</p><p>In short, she would have made Giorgio Armani weep tears of joy.</p><p>And next to <em>that, </em>I was only <em>okay.</em></p><p>Though I was a little confused about when I had started caring. <em>Maybe now that I actually stood a chance?</em> </p><p>I shook away that thought, and tried to focus on what was important. “Shouldn’t I have a cloak too?” I asked gesturing to the aged garment hanging loosely off Alice’s petite shoulders. “And a necklace?” I pointed to the silver, V-shaped pendant that all the Volturi wore. The one with rubies affixed at either end. And a coat of arms in the middle.</p><p>“Not yet,” Alice said, shaking her head. “You haven’t been officially inducted.”</p><p>I started at the unfamiliar word. “<em>Inducted?</em>” That sounded serious.</p><p>“Yep, Aro’s a bit dramatic, so he likes to make a bit of a ceremony out of giving out his cloaks and pendants,” Alice said, rolling her eyes as she continued to fiddle with different combinations of jewelry. “But it’s nothing to be worried about. It’s pretty short. He’ll give you all the instruction you need. And I’ll be right there with you.”</p><p>I tried to feel better with these reassurances. I really did. But the word <em>ceremony </em>scared me. It reminded me too much of embarrassing things like prom.</p><p>While Alice debated between a thick silver bangle and a thin red beaded bracelet, I stared at my alien reflection in the mirror. The alien in the mirror—I still wasn’t comfortable thinking of her as me—quavered with anxiety. And her vivid crimson eyes—eyes so bright they were almost glowing—flickered nervously, imagining every horrible way my <em>induction </em>could go wrong.</p><p><em>What if I tripped over the hem of my cloak? What if Aro wanted me to put the necklace on myself, and I broke the clasp? What if I’m supposed to bow, and I end up head-butting someone instead? </em> </p><p>It wasn’t until Alice spoke, that I realized I was holding my breath.</p><p>“Breathe, just breathe,” she encouraged.</p><p>I tried to follow her instructions—I really did. But my new vampire body was very irregular in obeying my directions. Sometimes, it completed actions before the thoughts to prompt them were even fully formed in my head—making me brash and impulsive. And other times, like right now, it wouldn’t cooperate with my demands no matter what I did. Which was frustrating to no end.</p><p>I tried to open my mouth, to suck in a deep breath and let the fresh air whistle up my nostrils and down my throat. But it just wasn’t happening. And instead, my hands started to tremble in my lap.</p><p>“Come on Bella, breathe!” Alice said a bit more urgently now that she saw I was shaking. “Or don’t. It doesn’t really matter now. Just don’t panic, okay. No one’s going to tear your head off.”</p><p>I ripped my gaze away from my bedroom’s full-length mirror to stare at Alice. To make sure she wasn’t tricking me. “You’re sure?”</p><p>“Positive,” she said with total confidence.</p><p>I frowned. It wasn’t fair. Alice could <em>cheat. </em></p><p>And for a moment I envied her ability to peer into the future. To be unworried about what would happen next because she could already see it working out with perfect clarity.</p><p>Oh, what I wouldn’t trade to have that assurance. </p><p>But then I remembered there were less pleasant sides to Alice’s gift. She could see catastrophes coming. <em>Big </em>catastrophes if her words four days ago were anything to go by. And the burden of having to try and circumvent those tragedies clearly weighed on her a lot.</p><p>“You’re sure Jane won’t try to get in a few good swipes at me?” I asked, shivering at the thought.</p><p>Alice shook her head. “Not with Aro there. Besides, I don’t think she hates you as much as she hates me.”</p><p>I found that hard to believe. The indignation I’d seen in her eyes when Aro had dared to compare our powers was pretty intense. Not to mention how furious she was that I was <em>immune </em>to her powers in the first place. When she hadn’t made me fall, screaming to the floor, the veins in her forehead had looked ready to burst.</p><p>But I took a moment to consider Alice’s perspective, anyway.</p><p>I had a pretty good idea of why Jane and Alice didn’t get along. Jane wanted to be Aro’s one and only favorite. And while that was a pretty impossible thing to achieve to begin with—seriously, Aro collected vampires with super powers like the British Museum collected valuable ancient artifacts—Alice was her main contender. The other vampire whose power Aro couldn’t stand to be without. The other vampire he seemed to prize the most.</p><p>But that didn’t mean Alice was Jane’s <em>only</em> contender. Thanks to Alice’s predictions, Aro had been pretty interested in <em>my</em> powers too. Interested enough to change me himself. And if I somehow managed to pull off this whole saving-the-entire-vampire-race thing, Jane might be fighting <em>me</em> for the top spot in Aro’s ever-shifting hierarchy.</p><p>I swallowed. “Jane may not hate me as much <em>now. </em>But that might change,” I warned Alice. </p><p>Alice shrugged, as if vampire politicking didn’t really concern her. “Maybe. But again, she’s not going to do anything about it while everyone is watching. She never did anything to <em>me</em> when there was an audience.”</p><p>Alice grimaced then. And my crimson eyes shot open wide when I realized what she was saying. </p><p>“Jane used to <em>torture you</em> behind Aro’s back?<em>” </em></p><p>Alice looked embarrassed all of a sudden—like she’d overshared—and tried to play it off. “Oh, it wasn’t so bad. A little here, a little there…”</p><p>I shook my head slowly. I wasn’t buying it. Even suffering a little of Jane’s power had to be excruciating if Edward’s performance four days ago was anything to go by.</p><p>“And Aro didn’t notice?”</p><p>I found that hardest to believe. <em>Wouldn’t he see it by reading Jane’s mind? And wouldn’t he put a stop to it if he knew? Or is he really that callous?</em></p><p>Alice shrugged. “I don’t think he knows. But that’s not really a surprise. Jane’s been working with Aro for a <em>thousand </em>years, Bella. So, she’s learned ways to… block things out. To make her mind go blank when she’s doing something she doesn’t want him to know about.”</p><p>Finally, I <em>did </em>breathe. But it was a sharp intake of air—the kind you did when you were frightened—not a deep, relaxing breath. </p><p>
  <em>Jane can keep secrets from Aro? So, she might try to stab me in the back when I was alone? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Great. Just great. </em>
</p><p>“There, that’s more like it,” Alice enthused, when she saw my chest inflate. “You might not <em>need </em>air anymore. But I find it helps.”</p><p>I wasn’t sure <em>help</em> was the right word. For one thing, I wasn’t breathing in a soothing way. And for another, air didn’t do the same things it used to do for me. I no longer needed it. So my lungs didn’t feel the refreshing sensation of relief when it wafted in.</p><p>But when I breathed, I also <em>smelled. </em>And at least my new nose was sharp enough for that to be <em>distracting.</em></p><p>The room we were now in—the large bedroom Alice had gifted to me after my first meal—had a lot of interesting smells. There was the faint, pungent aroma of paint fumes still clinging to the recently cream-colored walls. A waft of fresh industrial glue sticking down the lush, black carpet. The woody scent of hand-crafted furniture. And of course, the closest and strongest scent, of Alice, who smelled like all vampires did—like sunshine and honey—but with her own unique undertones of mint and cedar.</p><p>I breathed in again, reveling in the new world of experience my enhanced senses gave me. Then exhaled. And repeated the process a few times, until I felt my quivering shoulders begin to still.    </p><p>Alice finished accessorizing me a few moments later—she decided against the bangles, and kept it simple with a small, silver ring on my right hand. And smiled brilliantly at me. </p><p>“Alright, let’s go,” she said, tugging me towards the door. “We wouldn’t want to keep everyone waiting, would we?”</p><p>…</p><p>The turret room, as it so happened, was not the usual place the Volturi conducted their business. That room existed for two reasons—to feed in, and to kill criminals in. And they liked to avoid entertaining guests there whenever possible. Which made Edward’s anger at being brought there make more sense.</p><p>Instead, my <em>induction </em>was to take place in another room—the one past the gilded doors at the other end of the hallway, instead of through a secret panel in the wall. And this room, when Alice dragged me into it, was one I was surprised to recognize already.</p><p>It was the same rectangular room Aro had met Carlisle in. It was about half as large as the turret room. It wasn’t circular. And it wasn’t nearly as dark because twenty or so wrought iron candelabras had been placed around the sides of the room, spaced evenly, a few feet apart. Which illuminated the space with bright, flickering orange light.</p><p>As Alice tugged me inside, I felt like I was revisiting that memory all over again, though from the doctor’s perspective, rather than Aro’s. But there were a few things that had changed in the intervening centuries between that memory and now that shattered that illusion.</p><p>The first was the addition of new furniture to the room. Before, the candelabras and an old pendulum clock hanging on one of the dusty walls had been the only fixtures. But now there was a huge map of the world spanning the right wall, littered with thousands of tiny red push pins. The three wooden thrones I’d seen earlier were flush against the flat, back wall—each occupied with one of the three Volturi leaders, Aro, Marcus and Caius. And there was a low bench off to one side, where the two fair-haired wives, Sulpicia and Athenodora sat, tending Aro’s rambunctious twin daughters.</p><p>The second thing I noticed was the number of people in here. It seemed like too many for the size of this room—and indeed most of the bodies I saw were pressed tightly together. But at the same time the number seemed too small.</p><p>I swore there had been at least thirty-five vampires in the turret room four days ago. And yet this group today—though Alice had insisted every single member of the Volturi was supposed to be present—had only twenty-four members. Even if I included the three kings, their wives, and their children, that only brought the number up to thirty-one.</p><p>Which was a little worrying. <em>Had some vampires left the Volturi because of me? </em></p><p>My multi-tasking brain conjured up a thousand theories at once. Most of them were silly and paranoid. <em>Did they really hate me so much, without even knowing me, that they would abandon their coven? Do they not trust me, because of my connection, no matter how brief, with Carlisle? Or do they think I’m some kind of spy? That Aro and Alice were lying about the upcoming calamity?</em></p><p>But just as I was beginning to narrow it down, realizing that fear of what Alice had predicted was a much more rational reason, that’s when I noticed the third thing. Which was how <em>overwhelming </em>it was to be in the presence of so many immortals with my new cadre of senses.</p><p>At first, I was sure that the smell of smoke and melting wax wafting off the candles would be the strongest scent. Or maybe the scent of centuries of dirt and dust. But the aroma of twenty-four vampires all pressed in together was by far the most overpowering smell.</p><p>And suddenly I thought I understood Jacob’s complaints. The smell was so bright. And so sweet. Almost <em>too </em>sweet. </p><p>The sight of them all was a lot to take in too. My new eyes didn’t unfocus anymore, so all their impossibly perfect forms leapt out at me at once. I was bombarded with a bumpy sea of dark cloaks—each individual fiber of fabric distinguishable. The details of too many flawless, pale faces. And twenty-four pairs of unblinking crimson eyes.</p><p>Everyone was staring at me, I realized then. And I couldn’t help but flinch.</p><p>Alice gently pinched my arm. I guessed that was her way of trying to tell me to be polite.</p><p>Deciding to heed her command, I directed my eyes solidly forward. Until they landed on the most important member of the Volturi. The man sitting in the middle throne, with two elegant black eyebrows slanted my way. And his equally dark, pin-straight hair coming to a sharp point on his forehead.</p><p>“Ah, Isabella joins us formally at last!” Aro sang, rising fluidly from his seat.</p><p>Aro had exchanged his bloodstained robes for something a bit more modern—a smart, all-black suit, and polished Italian leather dress shoes. Though he still wore the same silvery, V-shaped pendant as everyone else. And there was one other ancient touch—a cloak of his own draped over his shoulders, that was so black, I felt like I was peering into the void of space.</p><p>“Alice, dear, if you would please, take your position?” Aro said, sweeping a hand toward the huddle of Volturi crowded in the small, rectangular space.</p><p>Alice gave me a sad little nod then—unhappy to leave me behind—before skipping off to enmesh herself with the others. But I wasn’t really sure what Aro meant by “position” until I gave the mass of cloaks another appraisal.</p><p>As it so happened the guard wasn’t crowded together randomly. They were standing in five neat, narrow rows, with five or six vampires in each, facing three thrones. There were several gaps in the third through fifth rows—places left deliberately empty, which suggested that the vampires who had once filled them <em>had </em>left. And there was a tiny gradient from one end to the other—a gradient so slight human eyes would never catch it—between the darkest black cloaks, which were clustered near the front, and the lighter black cloaks—colors that almost looked grey to my new eyes—near the back.</p><p>Alice seemed to decide that she belonged somewhere in the second row—next to Renata and Aro’s other dark-haired female bodyguard. But her cloak—even dusty and old as it was—was too dark to fit in there. And when Aro saw her choice, he chuckled and shook his head.</p><p>“Oh, dearest Alice, you are too modest,” Aro chided gently. “Up front, please.”</p><p>Alice made a face—like she was being forced to eat lima beans—and reluctantly moved into the first row where she stuck out a little less. But she stayed at the very far left. Ranking herself as low as she could, since it appeared the hierarchy placed the highest-ranking members on the right. </p><p>Aro chuckled again—this time almost a real laugh. And gestured for Alice to move up again. “No Alice. The <em>very </em>front,” he said like he was coaching a child.</p><p>Alice went suddenly deathly still. “Pardon?”</p><p>And one of the short figures occupying that right-most spot—Jane—turned to glare at her.</p><p>I tensed. I had fully expected Alice to face-plant and start screaming. Jane was staring at her exactly the same way she’d been looking at Edward four days ago—when she’d made him writhe on the floor.</p><p>Though, thankfully there wasn’t any potency in Jane’s gaze today. Her glare was as harmless as anyone else’s. For the moment, at least.</p><p>Aro, who seemed oblivious to the ire between the two girls, went on like nothing was happening. “Alice, do you really believe that so much has changed while you were gone?”</p><p>Alice dodged his question. “I’m happy where I’m at.”</p><p>But Aro too, ignored her. “Surely you cannot think that I am <em>angry </em>with you still for your extended absence? That I would<em> punish</em> you with a lower rank when you were only doing what was in all of our best interests…?”</p><p>Alice shook her head. “Not at all. I just don’t think I’m all that special.” </p><p>Aro looked askance at Alice. “Have I not explained to you how <em>crucial</em> your gift is to our organization? How irreplaceable you are? How utterly lost we are without your guidance? How much we <em>desperately </em>need you? How much it pleases me to have you here?”   </p><p>Jane gritted her teeth with every appraisal Aro heaped on Alice. Her little white hands balled into fists. And she started shaking.</p><p>Alice on the other hand looked like she would have broken out in a nervous sweat, if she’d been human. The line of worry creasing her brow was spreading steadily across her whole face—wrinkling her petite features with anxiety.</p><p>Ever mindful of Jane’s disapproval, she sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, you’ve only told me a million times.”</p><p>“Then <em>please,</em> Alice,” Aro begged in a downy voice. “Humor me.”</p><p>Alice made a quiet, frustrated sound. “Oh, alright.”</p><p>With a look of extreme reluctance, Alice obediently marched over to where Jane stood, and plopped herself down to the right of her. She moved quickly and decisively, seeing no need to drag it out. And all the while, she refused to turn and look at the seething thirteen-year-old at her side.</p><p>And I didn’t blame her. Jane’s rage was barely under control as it was. She jittered with fury, like her whole, tiny body was bursting with it. And she was very nearly hissing at the girl—low rasps of air coming out through her teeth.</p><p>I watched the pair stand next to each other with considerable apprehension. Alice stood ramrod still, and her eyes were glossy, like she was dissociating heavily—choosing to peer into a more hopeful future, rather than deal with the current, unpleasant reality. And I was so engaged in watching to make sure that Jane didn’t decide to rip Alice’s head off while Alice was staring into the 4<sup>th</sup> dimension, that I wasn’t prepared for what came next.</p><p>“Isabella?” Aro called quietly.</p><p>I started a little at the sound of his voice all the same—jerking involuntarily and supernaturally fast. And automatically everyone in the room tensed. Like I was a feral wildcat, and they didn’t want to accidentally trigger my territorial side.</p><p>I suffused with embarrassment. “Sorry,” I mumbled. But even that pathetic noise sounded like singing.</p><p>“It is quite alright, dear,” Aro promised me, making a dismissive wave at my fears. “Getting used to your new body and the way it moves will take time. But now,” he said, changing the subject, “Did Alice tell you about our customs?”</p><p>“My erm, induction, you mean?” I asked uncertainly. “Not much. She said you’d walk me through it?”</p><p>Aro grinned broadly. “Of course.” Then, noting my apprehensive gaze, he added, “It is really quite simple, Isabella. First, you introduce yourself—tell us a few interesting facts. And then everyone else will introduce themselves in <em>order</em>, from greatest to least,” he swept a hand down the rows of cloaked Volturi. “Then I will decide where I think you fit in the <em>rankings</em>, give you the appropriate shade of cloak, and of course our insignia,” he gestured to the V-shaped pendant resting over his unbeating heart. “And that is all. Any questions?”</p><p>I shook my head. Induction into the Volturi was pretty straightforward, actually.</p><p>Aro clapped his hands together, thrilled that I understood so quickly. “<em>Excellent! </em>Then let’s begin, shall we?”</p><p>I swallowed—this situation reminded me too much of my first day at Forks. All that embarrassing nonsense about introductions. And today there was the added threat—that a bunch of violent, red-eyed vampires were my audience, rather than a collective of bored high-school students.</p><p>But I was determined not to let my social anxiety defeat me. If I could commit to try and save the supernatural world, despite having no clue how I was going to do that, then surely a little self-introduction couldn’t be <em>too </em>hard, could it?</p><p>After Aro’s words, all of the cloaked figures in the room were abruptly staring at me again—which made me stammer out my next words awkwardly. But even inarticulate, my voice sounded beautiful, rather than irritating. And I wondered if it was even possible for a vampire’s voice to be annoying. I was beginning to doubt it.</p><p>“Hi! I’m Bella—er, I mean <em>Isabella</em> Swan,” I corrected upon seeing Aro’s eyes narrow with disapproval.</p><p>He smiled at me when I changed it, and I felt a little sour. I guess he really wanted me to go by my full name. As much as I hated it.</p><p>Trying not to let it bother me too much—a name change was a minor annoyance, in light of everything else—I went on.</p><p>“And I... uh…” I wasn’t exactly sure how to phrase the next bit. “…I have the power to resist mental powers.” I settled on. It was accurate enough. “It only works for me for now,” I felt it was necessary to add. “But I might be able to protect others in the future. Maybe.”</p><p>I shrugged lamely after I was finished. And looked pointedly at the floor.</p><p>“Very good,” Aro purred appreciatively. “A succinct, and accurate summary.”</p><p>I was glad he’d liked it. That made one of us.</p><p>“Of course, you have already met myself, and my two brothers,” Aro said.</p><p>He gestured to where Caius and Marcus sat, to his left and his right, respectively. Marcus’ expression, framed by waves of ebony locks, was as lackluster as usual. And Caius, though I could tell it wasn’t directed at anyone in particular, was as salty as the shade of his hair.  </p><p>I nodded.</p><p>“And our wives.”</p><p>Aro gestured to the low bench where his and Caius’ wives, Athenodora and Sulpicia were sitting. They both looked up then, and smiled genially. Sulpicia, the pale blonde with a perfect, full-figure, didn’t do anything. But Athenodora, the thinner one with long, lustrous waves of strawberry blonde hair, gave me a tiny wave.</p><p>I inclined my head ever so slightly—the tiniest of bows. I figured it was appropriate, given their station. And the two beamed at the action, which I took as a sign that I hadn’t totally screwed up.</p><p>“And my children,” Aro said further.</p><p>He pointed to the two tiny, identical little girls playing at the wives’ feet. And I nodded again while giving them another thorough inspection.</p><p>At first, I’d thought their resemblance was strongest to their father. They shared almost none of Sulpicia’s features, aside from her thicker lips. But as my perfected vampire gaze roved over them now, and they stopped their frolicking to stare back at me with wide, crimson eyes, I realized they were almost perfect, miniature copies of Didyme. And a spasm of pain rippled through my heart as I remembered what Aro had said earlier.</p><p>That Didyme was dead. That an accident had killed both her and her son.</p><p>It was completely tragic—to think of these girl’s compassionate aunt dying, leaving Marcus, her mate, totally bereft. But it was just as perplexing.</p><p>I still didn’t understand how an accident of any kind could kill two vampires. And to make matters even more suspicious that same “accident” for some reason hadn’t severed the emotional tie Marcus had to Didyme. He could still see Didyme’s bright line of love connected to him with his powers. Something that wasn’t supposed to happen, after death, I had learned.</p><p>His power’s only mistake.  </p><p>“And, of course, you already know me,” Alice piped in, since she was next in line.</p><p>Her bubbly announcement jolted me out of my thoughts. But I didn’t look at her. Instead my gaze turned towards Aro.</p><p>“Of course,” Aro breathed exultantly. “But if you would please, for the benefit of everyone else?”</p><p>Alice snorted. “They know who I am,” she said, gesturing flippantly toward the entire guard.</p><p>Jane tensed at Alice’s side.</p><p>Aro pouted. “Not our newest recruits.”</p><p>Alice groaned. “Fine.”</p><p>Then she swiveled to face the crowd. “Hi everyone, I’m Alice. I see possible futures. It’s not an exact science. Please don’t ask for any guarantees,” she pleaded. “My mistakes are frequent and flagrant. And I do not deserve this spot.”</p><p>Aro frowned cavernously. He obviously did not like the self-deprecating way Alice was describing herself.  But before he could say anything, Alice went on.</p><p>“I know you disagree now, Aro,” she gave as a caveat. “But you’ll come around to my way of thinking someday.”</p><p> Aro looked unconvinced. But rather than protest, he merely raised an eyebrow before he turned to Jane.</p><p>Jane wasted no time stepping forward, her slim, androgynous form moving with the perfect fluidity that came from centuries of practice. When she came to a stop, her tiny, round chin was held high. And I noticed then that she’d done something different with her hair. Instead of lying flat, she’d spiked the short, dirty blonde locks in a manner reminiscent of Alice’s usual style. Probably in a futile attempt to curry Aro’s favor.</p><p>“I am Jane. My ability is pain. I am an invaluable asset to this coven and have been for over a thousand years. So take that into consideration.”</p><p>Her words came out with practiced neutrality in a total monotone. But it wasn’t hard to hear the underlying message. <em>Don’t cross me. </em></p><p>Jane’s lovely twin—a boy with short hair a shade darker than hers, and slightly less full lips—stepped forward next. His demeanor was only slightly less haughty.</p><p>“I am Alec, Jane’s twin brother. I have the ability to cut off the senses. To make a person blind, deaf, unable to touch, taste, sense temperature or direction. And I do this with a mist I emit from my fingers. It creeps, until it incapacitates you.”  </p><p>I started at this information. I’d had some inkling before that Alec must possess a talent equally as scary as his sister’s. But I’d naively assumed it would be something similar—something that operated invisibly, only inside your head. I’d never imagined something like this.</p><p><em>A mist. </em>Alec created a sensory depriving mist. Even if its effects were only an illusion…<em> Would I be immune to something so tangible? </em></p><p>While I debated with myself, back and forth, the next Volturi in line, after these two formidable, perpetual, thirteen-year-olds, stepped forward. It was Chelsea—the light brown-haired woman who’d helped me get over my unhealthy attachment to Edward. And that was a revelation in and of itself. That Aro really saw her power as <em>that</em> valuable to the coven.</p><p>“I’m Chelsea,” she informed everyone in the same monotone Jane had used earlier. “My gift allows me to strengthen and weaken emotional ties. I have limits of course. I cannot cure potent hatred. Destroy true love. Or invent affection that does not exist. But beyond this, my abilities are almost limitless.”</p><p>Alec snorted—he obviously thought Chelsea was playing herself up a little. But Chelsea ignored him and went on.</p><p>“On occasion, I help our masters separate the innocent in a coven from the guilty, so that they may be spared. But mostly, I simply help us coexist,” she explained, gesturing to the guard.</p><p><em>Coexist. </em>I wondered at the woman’s phrasing. <em>Did she plan to use her powers on me again, to help me feel more amiable about the other Volturi? Maybe a bit later, when I had more positive emotions to work with? </em></p><p>I tried to feel nervous about that. To resent the idea of anyone messing with my emotional ties. But I just couldn’t muster up the feeling. I doubted Chelsea was trying to use her power maliciously. And she had admitted herself that she didn’t fundamentally alter anything important—she had to have something to work with. An emotional starting point. Something she could then milk for all it was worth.</p><p>And, like how Jasper sometimes used his gifts to calm down the Cullens when it looked like they might fight, what Chelsea did to smooth things over in her own coven, couldn’t be counted as bad either. She was just trying to keep the peace. And help people who might make stupid, life-threatening decisions—like I might have been tempted to, had I still been tied to Edward—rethink their unhelpful loyalties.</p><p>I beamed at her now. And she gave me an uneasy smile back, before the next person in line, stepped forward.</p><p>It was Vera. One of the few survivors from Carlisle’s experiments over three-hundred years ago. And today, she looked exactly the same as she did in Aro’s distant, crystalline memories. Average height. And pin-straight chocolate brown hair that fell to an astonishing length past her knees.</p><p>But there was one difference. Instead of wearing the slightly awed expression she always wore around Aro, she was glowering warily at me.</p><p>I wasn’t Edward, but if I had to take a guess, I thought she was worried that simply by knowing Carlisle, that I agreed with what he’d subjected her to all those centuries ago. That I was dangerous by association.</p><p>I desperately wished to assuage her fears. And I almost opened my mouth to speak.</p><p>But she beat me to the punch.</p><p>“I’m Vera. My power is healing. It takes a great toll on me. Restoring a single limb can drain all of my strength. And I must consume many humans to restore it. But I can, provided I am given limitless nutrition, heal almost any injury, no matter how dire, as long as a single cell of the original organism remains.”</p><p>I couldn’t help it. My mouth gaped open. <em>Such an incredible power. </em></p><p>And then—though I felt awful for thinking it—I wondered why<em> she</em> wasn’t first. <em>Bringing back an entire person from just a single cell? </em>Wasn’t that miraculous enough to warrant the very top ranking? Wasn’t that more impressive than Jane and Alec’s incapacitating, offensive gifts? Or even Alice’s ability to peer into the future?</p><p>I looked to Aro, hoping the confusion on my face asked the question for me.</p><p>And it did. But his answer was just as non-verbal as my question. He flicked his wrist—a tiny, almost imperceptible movement—in the direction of Vera’s already darkening eyes, the only pair among the guard that wasn’t a vibrant, almost glowing crimson. And suddenly I understood.</p><p>Vera <em>might </em>have been bestowed the honor of first place. But her power had too high of a cost.</p><p>We were onto the second row now. Rather than flanking his sides, as they usually did, Aro’s two dark-haired bodyguards stood on the very right—the highest ranked position. And they both stepped forward at the same time.</p><p>Both women were very similar. They both had black hair, spilling over their shoulders in long, rippling waves. They had the same, roman noses—like they were sisters. And both were pretty short—though not as short as Alice—at 5’ and 5’ 2”.</p><p>The shorter woman, I recognized as the same woman who had often accompanied Aro on his visits to the library. The other Christian vampire, Renata. But the taller woman was new—not the same as the other one who’d guarded Aro in the 1700s. She was a stranger to me. And that, combined with her relatively high rank, made me curious.</p><p>“I’m Renata,” the shorter woman, who was very first in the second row said. “And my gift is the ability to repel attackers. I am what is known as a shield. I can plant thoughts in the minds of others who are charging, and send them confused, in another direction. Make them forget why they were attacking in the first place.”</p><p>My eyebrows lifted at this. <em>A useful gift for a bodyguard,</em> I thought. But again, I couldn’t help but wonder, <em>Can she repel me? </em></p><p>Renata introduced her companion. “And this is my great-grand-niece, Makenna.”</p><p>Makenna snorted at the appellation. “Make that twenty-five greats.”</p><p>Renata rolled her eyes gently, like the distinction hardly mattered. But I was flabbergasted. It wasn’t hard to see that the two were related. But I’d never imagined that one of Renata’s human siblings had a descendancy long enough, to produce another woman-made-vampire, some twenty-five generations later. So many bloodlines died out before then.</p><p>“Master Aro sensed a certain protectiveness in me, before I was changed,” Makenna went on, speaking for herself now. “Something similar to what great-aunt Renata has. I guess it must run in the family,” she said wryly. “But I’m nowhere near as powerful. I’m not even sure my ‘power’ is enough to be called a ‘power’ at all. I might be able to make an enemy hesitate before attacking. But I can’t stop one that’s already charging.” </p><p>Makenna shrugged toward Aro, like he thought the ancient should demote her. But Aro simply smiled genially back. And I couldn’t help but think Makenna, like Alice, was underestimating herself.</p><p>Caius’ two, tiny, female, Asian bodyguards were next. Ichika, and Niko, I learned were their names. They had no special talents to speak of—something I got the sense Caius preferred. But they were trained in pretty much every martial art. And boasted of easily taking down vampires three-times their size. Something I didn’t doubt for a second, given how their small arms and legs rippled with muscle when they moved.   </p><p>Then Marcus’ two bodyguards finished off the second row. Unlike his brothers, Marcus had chosen two men to guard him—men named Kofe and Wambua. But like Caius, Marcus had also chosen vampires who possessed no supernatural gifts. Though rather than being tiny, waifish warriors, they were huge and brawny, like Felix. But with deep umber skin greyed slightly by vampirism, and African features.</p><p>The third row started with Demetri. And when the thin vampire with shoulder-length black hair stepped forward and told us of his powers, I couldn’t help but feel like Aro had messed up again with his rankings.</p><p>“My name is Demetri. I am the Volturi’s tracker. I catch the <em>essence </em>of a person when I am in their presence. And once I have obtained it, I can follow this essence anywhere in the world.”</p><p>
  <em>A tracker? Wasn’t that <strong>better</strong> than what the bodyguards did? </em>
</p><p>I thought it was <em>cooler, </em>at least.</p><p>But maybe Aro had a good reason for keeping Demetri back. If his earlier words to Alice were any indication, <em>loyalty </em>could affect the rankings just as much, if not more than actual skill. <em>So maybe the secret to Demetri’s placement is insubordination?</em></p><p>I couldn’t be sure. And I resolved not to make hasty judgements when the next person in line stepped forward.</p><p>It was a small, dark-haired girl with pale, sandy skin. She introduced herself as Corin. And then she mumbled, in a thick accent, something about having the power of <em>addictive contentment</em>. I wasn’t sure what <em>that </em>was all about. Her explanation didn’t really clarify. But the word <em>addictive</em> set off alarms in my head. So, while she looked pleasant enough, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to keep my distance.</p><p>Next was Heidi. And she was just as lovely and distracting as ever. With her radiant bronze skin, beautifully sculpted mahogany tresses, and <em>Sports Illustrated: Swimsuit Edition </em>worthy body. And though it appeared she was trying to be more modest today—covering as much skin as she could with a long, dowdy, black dress that tried to hide all of her curves. I still caught myself staring again.</p><p>It was like her skin was magnetized. And my eyes were copper bolts, physically unable to pull themselves away.</p><p>“I am Heidi. Some of you may know me as our fisher,” she said, flashing a dazzling, conspiratorial smile.</p><p>I wasn’t sure why, but that simple gesture made me want to follow her anywhere. And it seemed to have a similar effect on most of the rest of the guard. Most people in the room—Aro included—were openly admiring her, almost undressing her with their eyes.</p><p>Heidi continued as though nothing was happening—like Demetri’s gaze wasn’t raking over her in a totally lewd way. I guessed she was used to that kind of treatment. That she’d endured it for hundreds of years. </p><p>“My ability is a subtle one, but potent,” she told us.</p><p>I tried to listen, rather than just stare stupidly at her. But it was hard.</p><p>“<em>Physical allure</em>,” she purred the words. “It’s rather hypnotic, and useful for bringing in food.”</p><p>She licked her lips then, and I almost forgot my horror at what she was saying. The motion was so sensual, I felt like shouldn’t be allowed to see it. My icy vampire skin flamed hot at the sight. And I felt a funny little jolt of electricity shoot down my spine. </p><p>“It can also be used in battle, to distract the enemy,” she finished, winking devilishly.</p><p>We all gasped then. And a few vampires even clutched their unbeating hearts—like they couldn’t handle the eroticism anymore. But a moment later, when Heidi re-enmeshed herself with the other black-cloaked bodies, finally the spell was broken. And we all shook ourselves to get rid of the vestiges of arousal plaguing us.</p><p>After Heidi, there was an open space on the floor between her and Felix. And as my eyes turned toward it, Aro finally addressed the issue of the missing guard members.</p><p>“Unfortunately, some of our more transitory members have decided to leave us since Alice’s return,” he said, pointing to the empty space. “Ebele left on the first night.” Then, pointing to another, larger space in the fourth row, “Nikolai and Olga left the next night.” Finally, he pointed to the last gap, in the fifth row. “And Geraldo and Surya left yesterday morning.”</p><p>There was a low murmur of malcontent in the crowd as Aro mentioned their names. He let it go on for a few minutes, letting the guard’s anger and disgust fester, before he finally raised his hand.</p><p>At once the guard fell silent.</p><p>“Yes, yes I too am quite sad to see them go,” Aro shared, mirroring his guard’s disappointment as all eyes honed raptly in on him. “But they were not anticipating facing anything of this magnitude,” he offered as their excuse. “They were only interested in the prestige of the position when it was <em>safe</em>.”</p><p>Caius snorted with derision on his throne. And I couldn’t help but agree.</p><p>
  <em>So, they only wanted to wear the cloak when they didn’t have to fight a battle they might lose? Cowards. </em>
</p><p>“While I am disappointed, however, please do not give them any trouble if you see them again,” Aro instructed. “As you are all aware, we are a <em>volunteer </em>organization. If any of you, at any time, are unhappy with your lot, you are free to leave.”</p><p>All of the guard member’s heads bobbed in near-unison, to show they understood. Then suddenly, they went still, and stared, unblinkingly ahead.</p><p>“Is there anyone else who wishes not to stay and fight?” Aro asked. He spread his arms wide to clarify that everyone here was perfectly free to follow in their suit without fear of punishment.</p><p>I flinched where I stood. And looked around me with wide eyes.</p><p>
  <em>Were any of them seriously just going to walk away?</em>
</p><p>Aro waited for a few minutes, to give everyone ample time to come to a decision. At first, nobody moved. And I felt a bit better. But then, to my disappointment, suddenly, two figures in the back row exchanged glances surreptitiously, before they summarily broke from the crowd.</p><p>“Octavia? Hippolytus?” Aro called after them before they had managed to take even two steps.</p><p>The pair froze in place. Then they peered guiltily under the shade of their hoods back at their master.</p><p>“You intend to leave us?” Aro asked, sounding suddenly heartbroken by the idea.</p><p>The pair nodded, slowly, hesitantly. They looked quite tense, even obscured as they were under their charcoal-colored cloaks. And I guessed that they must be fearing some kind of retribution might be in order for their decision to leave.</p><p>Though, from what I could see of Aro’s expression, I doubted that. He was deeply hurt. But not angry.  </p><p>“And why might that be?” Aro queried.</p><p>“Because it is as you said,” a female voice answered from under one of the dark hoods. “We are not prepared to fight the battle Alice has shown us. When your daughters shared Alice’s vision of what it would be like…”</p><p>She trailed off, shivering at the memory. And I felt a sudden sinking sensation in my stomach. <em>That bad? </em> </p><p>“And where will you go?” Aro pressed.</p><p>The woman splayed a pale hand over her chest. “I, for one, intend to rejoin my old coven in Rome. They still consider me family, and would welcome me home.”</p><p>While I marveled at this information—<em>she had another coven to go back to?</em>—Aro nodded, taking it all in placidly. Then, he turned to look at the other figure, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.</p><p>“And you, Hippolytus?”</p><p>The man sighed. “My reason is much the same. As for where I will go, I have a mate in Greece to return to. Sharing time between here and there is already too difficult.” He winced, recalling the struggle. “And this calamity has only made me remember how important he is to me.”</p><p>Aro nodded again, understanding. But while he was taking this rather well, I was flabbergasted.</p><p>
  <em>Hippolytus has a mate in another country? So Alice isn’t the only one to have a mate somewhere else?</em>
</p><p>I tried not to let my shock show. Really, it should have been obvious that someone’s mate somewhere in the world might not want to stay in Volterra. Even if that meant being apart for longer periods of time. After all, living in Volterra meant being in close proximity to Aro. And if I hadn’t had my gift to protect me, I wouldn’t want to spend any significant length of time around him.</p><p>But I couldn’t help but gape a little anyway. The idea of being so physically far away from one’s beloved made me feel a sympathetic pang in my chest. And suddenly, I didn’t feel like all those who had left deserved the title of <em>coward</em>.</p><p>Perhaps they were afraid. But, if Octavia and Hippolytus were any indication, maybe some also had other things that were more important to them than the abstract ideals of the Volturi. And I couldn’t really fault them for putting family first.</p><p>It was a noble thing to do.</p><p>After the two gave their explanations, Aro flicked his wrist, ever so slightly, shooing the pair toward the door. And without another word, Octavia and Hippolytus bowed. Then they unfastened their cloaks, leaving them in a neat pile on the floor, before turning and filing quickly out of the room.</p><p>They kept their necklaces—I noticed the silver Vs still gleaming on their chests. But Aro didn’t seem to think that was an issue. Instead of demanding they return them, he was scanning the remainder of the crowd to see if anyone else planned to leave.</p><p>However, to his and my relief, the rest of the vampires in the room remained firmly in place. And after another minute of painfully tense silence, Aro made another small hand gesture. Then, acting according to some cue I didn’t understand, the ceremony continued, as though it hadn’t been interrupted.</p><p>Felix and another brawny, vampire I only faintly recognized from four days ago, stepped forward suddenly. The other vampire, who had a dark complexion, and long, thick, dreadlocks, I learned was named Santiago. And both of them were vampires selected to be part of the Volturi’s fighting force solely because of their incredible size and strength. Felix was 6’ 7” and about twice as thick as a normal person. And Santiago, while not quite as tall, was equally burly.</p><p><em>Killing machines, </em>they called themselves. And I shuddered, believing them.</p><p>The fourth row, still short a member, was full of strangers. A small Japanese woman named Yuki. A Pakistani man named Kadir. Xavier, who was African-American. And Petra, a French vampire with ivory skin smothered in <em>freckles</em>. I stared at her the longest, wondering why she was the first vampire I’d seen with them.</p><p>They each gave a short description of what their abilities were as well. But it was all weirdly speculative. And their powers were all so… subtle, I wasn’t sure they had powers at all. They played them up as best as they could, of course. But it was a bit like Rosalie trying to say her beauty was a gift. Or Emmett his strength. Or Esme her motherly love.</p><p>Sure, those things were <em>nice</em>. But were they really <em>superpowers</em>?</p><p>When they were finished, I realized there was only one member of the Volturi guard left. Standing alone on the very left side of the otherwise empty fifth row was a thin, scrawny-looking fellow. He had the lightest skin in the room aside from Caius—who I was starting to suspect might be albino. And a mop of untidy, platinum blonde hair.</p><p>He shambled forward awkwardly, avoiding Aro’s gaze—a gaze I was surprised to note had turned suddenly cold. And muttered his introduction abashedly, in the direction of Chelsea instead.</p><p>“Hello, um, I’m Afton. And my power is…”</p><p>Aro’s fists clenched irritably on the armrests of his throne. Afton flinched and trailed off as the sound reached everyone’s ears. And it took him a few moments to gather the courage to speak again.</p><p>“…Well, most people think it’s more annoying than anything really,” he added in a vain attempt to placate Aro. “You see, I can make myself, and anyone who stands directly behind me invisible, but um, it only really works when I’m standing still. And only when humans are watching. Anyone with a sharp focus—and of course, that’s all of us,” he chuckled awkwardly, “—can see a shimmering outline that gives away my position.”</p><p>Afton sighed heavily, like he was disappointed in himself. And slunk back into line with a guilty expression.</p><p>I almost felt bad for him. Aro—judging by his pinched facial expression now—clearly wished he could be rid of him. And that knowledge obviously weighed heavily on Afton.</p><p>But I didn’t know him well enough to know if Aro’s annoyance was warranted or not. Hell, I might hate him too, in a few months.</p><p>And I wasn’t too worried about him, anyway. I knew from Aro’s memories, and I could see now, that Chelsea absolutely adored the awkward, Scandinavian dork. She smiled warmly at him, her crimson eyes flooded with devotion. And Aro wasn’t about to disappoint Chelsea. Her power was too important to lose.</p><p>“Now Isabella,” Aro said, all the coldness in his face gone, replaced with splendid, sunny warmth. “Where do you think you ought to be placed? Now that you have met all of us?”</p><p>I gulped. <em>Aro was asking<strong> me</strong>? Wasn’t he supposed to decide? </em></p><p>My eyes jerked up at him, confusion clearly written all over my face. But his expression brokered no room for argument. So, with a frown, my eyes flicked again, over the rows of bodies, trying to decide where I belonged.</p><p>I knew it was smarter to underestimate myself, than to seem too cocky. It would be humiliating to be asked to move <em>down. </em>But I also knew that Alice’s predictions would elevate me quite a bit in Aro’s mind. So, after what felt like mere seconds—my new vampire brain worked very quickly—I pointed shakily toward the end of the first row. The same place Alice had initially tried to put herself.</p><p>“After Vera,” I said.</p><p>Aro laughed merrily at my choice. Then snapped his fingers.</p><p>At once, Sulpicia and Athenodora rose from their little bench and walked up towards the three thrones. I wasn’t sure what the women were planning to do, until Athenodora pulled a long, flat box from the shadow of her cloak, and drew out of it a long piece of black fabric.</p><p>Sulpicia helped her shake off any dust. And I inspected the fabric carefully as it billowed, like rippling ink, in the women’s pale hands.</p><p>It was too dark—not nearly the void-black of Aro’s cloak, of course. But nor was it anywhere near the dull charcoal color that Felix and the others on his row wore. Or the near-grey of Afton’s dingy cloak.</p><p>It was practically the same shade as Alice’s cloak, I realized with a start. Maybe a hair or two lighter.</p><p>Once Sulpicia and Athenodora were finished dusting it off, they held it out expectantly, as though they expected me to come forward and slip inside it. And I decided, after earning a brief nod from Alice, that it was safe to follow that cue.</p><p>I tried not to think about the twenty-two pairs of eyes boring into me as I zipped up to the Volturi thrones. And tried not to worry about what my face looked like, or if my mascara was smudged, when the two gorgeous women settled the cape over my shoulders, and did up the little clasps for me. It was hard enough just moving. My new body, while much faster, wasn’t any more coordinated than my old one—I noticed with no small measure of chagrin.</p><p>When the wives were finished dressing me up, they spun me around to face Aro directly. He pulled out a small black jewelry box from some unseen pocket then, and opened it with a dramatic flourish in front of me.</p><p>I already knew what to expect. But I still gasped when the little box snapped open. Inside, resting on a cushion of lush, red velvet, was the same silvery Volturi pendant the rest of the guard was already wearing. It gleamed prettily under the flickering orange candlelight. And the rubies set at either end sparkled with the same intensity as Aro’s eager eyes.</p><p>“Go on,” Aro urged. “Take it.”</p><p>My hand lurched out to do just that. Then hesitated over the necklace.</p><p>“What’s the matter, dearest Isabella?” Aro asked in a beautiful, feathery voice.</p><p>“I’m worried I might break it,” I confessed.</p><p>Aro winced knowingly. He’d already seen what my horrible lack of coordination combined with my new supernatural strength could do. What kind of ghastly messes I could make with just a tiny twitch of my hands….</p><p>“Allow me, then,” he said, lifting the pendant delicately out of its container. “In the coming weeks, however, you should endeavor to gain some restraint, I think,” he whispered against my skin, as he reached around my neck to do the clasp. “You will need to learn not to break everything you touch,” he said, before letting the pendant fall, secured, against my chest.</p><p>I waited to feel the familiar sensation of my cheeks burning. But the blood flushing them earlier was all gone—absorbed into my system completely now.</p><p>And for once, I felt a rush of gratitude for my new, inhuman nature. I’d always hated blushing. It was almost more embarrassing than the embarrassment that caused it itself.</p><p>“Now go take your place,” Aro instructed.</p><p>He pointed, not to the position I’d indicated earlier, but to a new gap in the middle of the front row that had opened up between Chelsea and Alec.</p><p>I felt instant relief when I realized Aro wasn’t going to antagonize Jane any further by putting me in front of her. But I felt a stab of guilt for the look on Chelsea’s face—a look of betrayal—as I slipped as graciously as I could into line to the right of her.</p><p>I tried to give her an apologetic look. After all, it wasn’t <em>my </em>choice to place myself ahead of her. But she was staring pointedly at the floor, her mouth pulled in to a grimace. And her tiny white fists trembled furiously at her sides.</p><p>I swallowed guiltily and looked up. My eyes sought out Aro again, hoping to level him with a glare for putting me in this awkward position. I didn’t need to be making enemies of the other guard members on day one.</p><p>But as I looked, I saw something else that disturbed me.</p><p>Marcus’ usually bored face was alight with suspicion. And I couldn’t help but shake a little myself as I watched his cold, red eyes pass over the crowd before him slowly. It took a lot to make Marcus feel <em>anything</em> this strongly. And as his gaze paused for a fleeting moment, once near the back row, and again up front, I couldn’t help but wonder what was causing this reaction.</p><p>
  <em>Was he seeing something with his power? Some relationship bonds that were not as they should be?</em>
</p><p>Anything was possible, I realized. And without Edward’s gift I was blind to what was going on inside the ancient vampire’s head. It could just as easily have been nothing. Or a fluke—since apparently his gift did make mistakes. But my stomach dropped just the same.</p><p>
  <em>I don’t like this. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t like this at all. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>CHAPTER TWO: CULPRIT</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>I thought I must be interpreting the signs incorrectly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Because where is the motive?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why would someone create an army in Seattle?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There is no history there, no vendetta. </em>
</p><p>- Jasper, Eclipse, Chapter 13</p><p>…</p><p>Once I had taken my place in the lineup, Caius caustically cleared his throat to garner everyone’s attention.</p><p>“Now that your pompous <em>ceremony</em> is over,” he snarked icily at Aro, “Can we cut to the matters of <em>actual</em> importance?”</p><p>Aro leaned forward in his seat and looked briefly at Caius, with a weary expression—like he was tired of putting up with so many millennia of Caius’ relentless irritation. Then he slid back fluidly, and gestured for Caius to continue.</p><p>Caius nodded in acknowledgement, and relaxed—albeit only fractionally. Then his cold eyes were rapt on all of us. And his shrill, angry voice turned low and grave.</p><p>“Alice has warned us of a dire outcome. We must begin making preparations as a coven to face this threat immediately. However, first we must have some conception of what we are up against. Alice, if you would not mind explaining, for those who have not seen it yet?”</p><p>Caius directed his eyes at a few faces in the crowd. I guessed three days wasn’t enough time, with everything else that had probably been going on during my transformation, to show everyone Alice’s vision through Titania and Lucretia. Either that, or some had opted, for whatever reason, not to witness the calamity for themselves.</p><p>Alice nodded automatically. Then, without breaking formation, she addressed everyone in a serious tone.</p><p>“We’ve faced lots of newborn armies before. I’m sure all of you recall the conflicts in the American South. And if I remember correctly, there was an incident in Anchorage three years back—which was dealt with decisively.”</p><p>The whole guard nodded. And I bobbed my head jerkily along with them—even though I had no idea what Alice was talking about. It would be weird to be the only one who wasn’t nodding, after all.</p><p>“Well, this isn’t going to be anything like that,” Alice warned. “Normally, the creators of newborn armies have some sensible goal. Something they’re after that they can’t get any other way. Territory. Power. Revenge. But this isn’t the case this time. Whoever is going to create these newborns isn’t worried about any of those things. I would have seen it, if that’s what they wanted.”</p><p>“If they have no goal, won’t that make them easier to fight? Won’t they be tactless?” Alec asked.</p><p>That was an excellent point. <em>Ten points to the short guy.</em></p><p>But Alice, to everyone’s dismay, shook her pretty little head. “I don’t think so.”</p><p>Alec frowned, put out that he was wrong.</p><p>Jane growled in her brother’s defense. “But you <em>said</em>—”</p><p>“Let me be clear,” Alice interrupted, her rudeness only vexing the little girl further. “I’ve been thinking, these past few days, that they <em>do</em> have goals, just that they’re something very different. Something a lot worse than anything we’ve seen before.”</p><p>A chorus of disquieted murmurs swept through the guard. They all seemed to be thinking the same thing I was.</p><p>“Worse?” I asked. “What do you mean?”</p><p>Aro cleared his throat, entering the conversation now. And as soon as that soft, feathery sound reached our ears, the entire guard locked into absolute stillness—their mouths all hard lines of perfect, obedient, silence.</p><p>Aro smiled when he saw that even I was doing my best imitation of the rest of the guard’s behavior. But it was hard to feel happy about pleasing him when I was holding my breath, clenching my teeth, and staring, blankly, straight ahead, trying—and probably horribly failing—not to let my face show any emotion.</p><p>After a moment of observing me, Aro’s vibrant crimson eyes filtered slowly across the guard as he spoke. “Alice believes—though she is not certain—” he made sure to add, when Alice shot him a meaningful glare, “—that <em>chaos</em> may be our enemy’s main motive for creating the newborn army.”</p><p><em>Chaos? </em>I thought, surprised. <em>What kind of motive was that?</em></p><p>“And why is that?” Caius demanded. I sensed the steel in his tone was born more of confusion at the enemy’s tactics, than at Aro for not explaining them adequately enough, or at Alice for seeing them in the first place. </p><p>“Creators of newborn armies usually start with a handful, and work their way up,” Aro reminded his brother. “Also, though sheer strength is expected to be their main advantage, many covens will give their newborns a semblance of training before they’re set loose. Which is not our enemy’s plan.”</p><p>Caius lifted one snowy eyebrow. “You are saying that whoever will create these newborn vampires, has no intention of training them?” he asked, incredulously.</p><p>“None whatsoever,” Aro agreed. “They plan to bite as many people as they can starting sometime next month. Then—after we come to clean up their mess—unleash the survivors on us.”</p><p>Caius regarded Aro with undisguised horror for a minute. “You mean <em>we</em> are their intended target?”</p><p>Aro nodded solemnly. “It would appear so.”</p><p>“And the extinction of our kind, which Alice foresees, might result from this battle? Is that <em>also</em> one of their objectives?” Caius demanded.</p><p>This time it was Alice who responded. “I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s just a side-effect of how bad the fighting could get. If we are not very careful, it will force us out into the open. Then humans will do the rest.”</p><p>A ripple of unease went through the whole guard then. I shuddered along with them. </p><p>Caius’ eyes flashed back to Alice. “Do you know the date of the battle?”</p><p>“My predictions place it on June 15<sup>th</sup>,” Alice told him promptly. “Though, that’s only if they stick to their original plans.”</p><p>“So, we have a few months to make our preparations…” Caius mused aloud, briefly satisfied.</p><p>But then his snowy brow contracted over his crimson eyes. And he made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat.</p><p>“But who is this ‘they’ you speak of?” he demanded. “Who would see the Volturi eradicated? Who is our enemy?”</p><p>All eyes turned on Alice. Though Caius was the first to address the issues, we were all wondering.</p><p>But to everyone’s disappointment, Alice shrugged. “I still don’t know. I <em>wish </em>I did. I’ve spent <em>decades </em>trying to figure it out.” she added to make sure Caius knew her ignorance wasn’t from lack of trying. “But whoever they are, they’re never quite active enough—never quite directly involved in the action—to see them clearly.”</p><p>Caius made a sharp, impatient gesture toward Aro’s two daughters, then another at Alice.</p><p>“Show me.”</p><p>Aro sighed at his brother’s impatience. And my eyes bulged.</p><p>
  <em>Caius, one of the three kings himself, hadn’t seen this yet?</em>
</p><p>I began immediately sorting out all the possible reasons why. And I’d compiled a list of almost thirty-two different reasons—each more upsetting than the last—when, to my further astonishment, Aro made no protest. Instead, he lifted himself off his throne again to glide to his daughters’ sides.</p><p>While Aro made his way slowly over to the low bench where the wives sat, tending the girls, I took a moment to see what they were doing. And when I figured it out, I inhaled in shock.</p><p>It looked like the two girls were handling some blocks of metal that had bright letters and numbers painted on the side. I was shocked because they were toys that—like the soap I’d used the night before—must have been manufactured with vampires in mind.</p><p>After all, regular old wooden blocks would have splintered under the pressure these girls were exerting. And as it was, the blocks weren’t perfect cubes anymore. The metal was slightly mangled on the edges, sporting tiny, finger-shaped grooves, from decades of rough play.</p><p><em>Interesting, </em>I thought. I wasn’t expecting that.</p><p>
  <em>I wonder what else Aro has produced here?</em>
</p><p>I could think of a few other things the Volturi might craft to resist damage—and wondered if they had bothered. But before I could fully parse it out, suddenly Aro floated into his daughters’ view.</p><p>The girls stopped what they were doing immediately. They let their metal blocks fall—<em>clank, clank, clank—</em>on the stone floor. And then flitted to Aro’s side, clutching at his void-black cloak with their tiny, hard fingers.</p><p>“<em>Il mio padre!</em>” the girls sang in eerie, harmonious unison.</p><p>“What do you need of us now?” Lucretia asked, evidently eager to please. </p><p>Her voice was the peppier of the two. And higher-pitched.  </p><p>“He wants us to show uncle Caius what Alice has seen,” Titannia, said in an exasperated tone. “<em>Duh,</em>” she added, like her sister was being stupid.</p><p>Lucretia crossed her tiny little arms defensively and stuck her tongue out at her sister.</p><p>The small, childish gesture was cute to me. Probably one of the only genuinely adorable things I’d seen one of the girls do since their gruesome meal.</p><p>But it incensed Titannia. Her adorable little face scrunched up with an expression that said, <em>this means war. </em> </p><p>I rolled my eyes. I hated to be the curmudgeon, but we didn’t have <em>time </em>for this. We were trying to strategize a war, here. Probably one of the most important wars in history.</p><p>Luckily, Aro intervened before anything happened. He placed a soothing hand on Titannia’s shoulder. And smiled disarmingly at her.</p><p>“You are right. So how about we get right to it?” he encouraged, hoping to dispel any arguments before they erupted.</p><p>And to everyone’s collective relief, the girls did not fight after hearing this. Instead, they nodded placidly. And followed their father as he walked them across the room toward Caius. </p><p>…</p><p>It only took a few minutes for the girls to show Caius everything Alice had seen. But when Caius floated back from the pair, breaking the connection between his, and Lucretia’s hands, he looked almost visibly aged. Like Alice had forced him to slog through a hundred-years-worth of possibilities.</p><p>I imagined that was probably not too far from the truth. Alice had probably shared every relevant vision about the upcoming battle. Every branching, alternate timeline, stretching out indefinitely from that one, already ill-defined point. Just so that Caius could be <em>absolutely</em> sure that Alice hadn’t, even once, seen something that might identify our enemy. </p><p>Aro looked meaningfully at Caius when the exchange was finished. And Caius, with a deep, scowl, marring his marble face, shook his head.</p><p>“Nothing,” he said bleakly. “Alice is right. Our attacker—the creator of these newborns—is almost <em>deliberately </em>missing.”</p><p>Aro’s interest was piqued at Caius’ wording. “You think it is deliberate? That they hide from Alice’s vision, knowingly?”</p><p>I felt a rush of shock. And based on the handful of gasps that slipped out around me, I wasn’t alone. <em>Our enemy knew about Alice’s power?</em></p><p>“I cannot imagine any other way they could stay so completely out of her view,” Caius said, logically. “I think the most I saw, was at best, a foggy silhouette. But I could not even tell you the sex.”</p><p>Aro tapped his chin ponderously, considering what Alice had shown him earlier in light of this new insight. “I am not sure I see things the same way,” he shared, after a few moments of mulling it over. “Our attacker’s mystery identity could simply be a coincidence. But if what you are saying, dear brother, <em>is </em>true, then that actually narrows our search a bit. Only so many vampires in the world know of Alice’s gift, after all.” </p><p>Caius scoffed. “Hardly. You boast of her abilities too much,” he accused. “I imagine <em>half</em> the supernatural world knows by now.”</p><p>Alice chuckled lightly. “Caius has a point. You brag about me a lot.”</p><p>Aro smiled, a little guilty. “Perhaps,” he allowed. “I shall endeavor to be more careful from now on. But I still believe my original point stands. How many, after all, know Alice’s gift <em>well enough</em> to dodge it so tactfully?”</p><p><em>He has a point there. </em>A general knowledge that Alice could see the future was not enough. In order to be able to dodge her sight so effectively, one had to have a pretty robust knowledge of how her power worked. At the very least, to know that there were gaps in her vision they could exploit. That there were certain things Alice, no matter how hard she tried, simply could not see.</p><p>Like the werewolves in La Push. Or, more regularly, the decisions that had not yet been made. </p><p>Aro turned to face the guard now, and spread his hands wide in invitation. “Do any of you have any guesses? I want to hear your thoughts. Who do you think is responsible for this calamity Alice foresees?” </p><p>The conference room—that was what I had decided to call this rectangular stone enclosure, cluttered with wrought iron-candelabras and too many black-cloaked bodies—erupted into a cacophony of sound almost instantly after Aro’s invitation. Lots of the immortals around me had ideas, it seemed, about who might be responsible for the newborn army that was not yet created. But as they all tried talking over each other, the names I caught here and there, were all either unfamiliar, or utterly implausible.</p><p>“I knew we should not have let Stefan and Vladimir live!” Alec shouted. “The Romanians would love an opportunity to exact revenge!”</p><p>“We have other enemies, in the American South,” Heidi thought it was necessary to point out. “And they would be just as eager, and a lot closer. Not to mention more versed in the whole newborn thing.”</p><p>“No!” protested Demetri. “It has to be someone from the Egyptian coven! Probably Amun. He resents our hold over them. This is how he breaks our agreement!”</p><p>“Perhaps it is Carlisle,” Vera said coldly. “Another <em>experiment </em>of his, gone horribly wrong,” she snapped, still clearly hurt by what he’d done to her those many years ago. “That would explain the uncertain motive, and his absence in Alice’s visions. Of course, he never <em>intends </em>it to turn into a fight—.”</p><p>“Carlisle doesn’t want us dead and he would never be so careless as to create an army by <em>accident</em>,” Renata surprised me by coming to his defense. “Nor would the others of his coven. He may have made grave mistakes before. But you cannot let your past experiences cloud your judgment.”</p><p>Vera’s dark eyes narrowed at the shorter vampire. She wasn’t going to back down.</p><p>“His power would make it all too easy to lie to us. Not to mention he is <em>also</em> the only known coven leader in the area,” she countered. “It would be awfully <em>convenient</em>.”</p><p>I swallowed. Vera did have a point. The ability to alter memories would make hiding from the Volturi—Alice, included, pretty simple. And no other vampires currently lived in Washington state. But I didn’t like to entertain that line of thought.</p><p>And I liked the next idea brought to the table even less.   </p><p>“Could it be one of us?” Afton asked.</p><p>I clapped a hand over my mouth. But while I seriously considered the possibility with no small amount of horror, everyone else glared at him to shut him up. Like he was being stupid for just suggesting it.</p><p>“Just a thought,” he mumbled sheepishly. “You know, since a member of the Volturi would know best how Alice’s power worked.”</p><p>He had a point there. But the rest of the Volturi guard wasn’t having any of it.</p><p>“What an <em>idiotic</em> idea!” Ichika protested, her voice carrying a slight Japanese accent. “We would<em> never</em> betray our own! Besides, Aro would know of our treason as soon as he touched us or Marcus. None of us could keep <em>that </em>secret from him!”</p><p>
  <em>Is that true? </em>
</p><p>I thought about bringing up how Jane had managed to keep the occasional, minor pains she sent toward Alice a secret. But then I realized I didn’t really know enough about that to make my case. I was just going off what Alice had told me. And her exact explanation was vague.</p><p>“Do you really want to accuse any of us of <em>betrayal</em>?” Ichika demanded, an edge of steel in her voice.</p><p>Afton shook his head, bowed it in apology, then slunk back shyly from the affronted vampire.</p><p>I felt another stab of pity for him. Even if Ichika was right—Aro would know right away, from Marcus’ gift, or from the mind of the person themselves, if one of the Volturi guard’s loyalties ever faltered—there was no need to make him feel so awful about it. Being in the very back with the lightest cloak, and full knowledge that Aro would rather he not be there, had to be humiliating enough.  </p><p>I tried to give him a reassuring smile. But he wasn’t looking up. And the rest of the coven was still speaking. I rotated to my left, to hear Chelsea voice her theory.</p><p>“Could something else be blocking Alice’s vision besides just evasion?” the light brown-haired vampire asked. “You cannot see Children of the Moon with your sight,” she reminded Alice. “Maybe they are involved?”</p><p>“Impossible,” Caius snarled. “They are all but extinct. I have seen to it myself.”</p><p>“Wait, what’s a Child of the Moon?” I asked. But no one seemed to want to answer me. They were to busy formulating their own theories.</p><p>“You know, you might be onto something,” Alice noted, rubbing her pale chin in thought. “That would explain some of the weird gaps. The futures that suddenly disappear….” She trailed off, her eyes misted over as she reviewed the futures in her mind again. “But…” she stipulated, coming suddenly back to earth, “…it could just as easily be some other kind of creature. I can only see futures predicated on the decisions of humans and vampires, you know.”</p><p><em>Some <strong>other </strong>creature? There were more? </em> </p><p>But frustratingly, no one was interested in educating the noob. So, I waited, with an ever-souring expression as more cloaked figures around me shouted out their various theories, and offered rebuttal after rebuttal as to why they didn’t add up.</p><p>This went on for some time. I tried asking more questions, whenever there seemed to be a gap in the conversation. But hardly any of the guard paid me any attention. And the few that did glowered at me, like I was a toddler interrupting an adult’s discussion with stupid inquiries. So, after fifteen long minutes, in a particularly irritated mood, I decided to add a contribution of my own. </p><p>“What about Victoria?” I blurted out, shooting off the cuff, more than anything.   </p><p>“Who?” nearly every member of the Volturi whispered in unison.</p><p>I bristled. I wasn’t really expecting anyone to pay attention to my remarks, given how they’d ignored my earlier question. And it was eerie how much on the same wavelength they were. But I supposed that was only natural after being together for centuries.</p><p>I slunk back as the rest of the Volturi guard started murmuring disapprovingly, shying away from the judgmental scrutiny that was suddenly foisted on me, the same way Afton had backed down before. And automatically I opened my mouth. But before I could mumble an apology for my impertinence, there was a light, bell-toned voice of protest. </p><p>“Wait,” Alice instructed, holding up a hand to silence everyone. “Bella may be onto something here.”</p><p>She made an impatient gesture for me to continue. And, though there were muffled gasps of surprise rippling through the guard, no once voiced any more protests. In fact, Aro even leaned forward in his throne, eyeing me raptly.</p><p>I gulped. It wasn’t really a theory—a stab in the dark, if I was lucky. But since she’d put my on the spot, I really didn’t have any choice but to share. </p><p>“You said something about <em>territory </em>before, and that got me thinking, <em>who </em>besides the Cullens lives in the area? Who else might find the local population of Seattleites tempting to make into an army?” I explained as logically as I could, surprised at how sensible my idea when I explained it out loud. “Well, I know of one vampire who has been hanging around ever since last summer.”</p><p>Alice nodded. “Victoria. Right. You told me about that,” she acknowledged brightly. Then she tapped her chin again, looking thoughtful and more than a little confused. “What would be her motive, though? I don’t think she hates us that much.”</p><p>“Revenge on me and the Cullens?” I guessed, shrugging. “For killing James?”</p><p><em>Hell, if I knew. </em>After all, I hadn’t really given the idea very much thought. </p><p>“But a <em>newborn army</em>?” She made a face. “Don’t you think that’s a little<em> drastic</em>, Bella?”</p><p>I made a noncommittal gesture. Alice had a point. But there were a few facts that supported my theory. It wasn’t <em>entirely </em>baseless.</p><p>“Victoria tried the whole time you were gone to sneak around the pack’s defenses so she could kill me,” I explained, both for Alice’s benefit and everyone else’s. Though, from their bewildered stares, I got the distinct impression I wasn’t enlightening them at all. “But she hasn’t had any luck. So maybe she decided to go <em>through </em>them rather than around.” </p><p>Alice nodded, taking this all in. Then she seemed to come to a realization. A realization that twisted her painted features into an unpleasant frown.</p><p>“But you’re not living there anymore.”</p><p>I rolled my eyes. “Alice, it’s only been <em>four days. </em>Do you really think she’s noticed that yet?”</p><p>We couldn’t, after all, expect Victoria to keep <em>that </em>close of tabs on me. If she’d been able to get that close, she would have killed me already.  </p><p>Alice sighed. “You’re right. But this confrontation is <em>much bigger</em> than some little mate-for-mate vendetta,” she insisted. “Victoria has only wanted you dead since last June. Not even a full year yet. But Bella, I’ve been seeing this vision since <em>1948</em>, remember?”</p><p><em>Oh. </em>I scrunched my eyebrows together. “You got me there.”</p><p>Another ripple of disappointed murmurs, interspersed with the occasional insult went through the guard then. And I, despite usually being a forgiving person, felt a spasm of murderous rage.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, shut up already! Some of us <strong>were</strong> born yesterday! Can you give me a break? </em>
</p><p>“Maybe she’s helping the people who want to kill us?” I snapped, throwing up a hand in exasperated irritation. “Or something. I mean, she was still in contact with Laurent.”</p><p>Alice frowned. “I don’t see how that—”</p><p>I clenched my teeth in frustration. How could she <em>not </em>see it? It was only just coming together now in my head—all the pieces rapidly assembling in my super-computer-like vampire brain. But out of habit I still expected Alice to be one step ahead of me. Was she really not able to keep up?</p><p>“He came to us, remember? After James decided to hunt me down?” I prodded, hoping the incident at the baseball field would jog her memory. “Well, where did he go after that?”</p><p>I was hoping I wouldn’t have to spell it all out for her. And as I watched the comprehension light in her vibrant, crimson eyes, I realized with a huff of relief, that I wouldn’t.</p><p>Alice cursed quietly under her breath. “<em>Of course.</em> Laurent stayed for some time with the Denali clan. So he would probably understand my gift a little through them. Irina was so besotted with him… I bet she’d tell him <em>anything</em>…”</p><p>Alice made a disgusted face, and fiercely shook her head. And, in light of recent revelations, I couldn’t help but agree. If Laurent had, in fact, passed on sensitive information about how Alice’s powers worked to Victoria, that could be <em>disastrous. </em></p><p>“Wait,” Aro introjected suddenly. He seemed to be the only one that was following anything we were saying. Everyone else was looking on in uncomprehending stupor. “You are saying that it is possible this nomad, Victoria, understands how your powers work?”</p><p>Alice heaved a heavy sigh. “It’s possible,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t mean anything really, when it comes to determining the culprit behind these attacks. I honestly doubt either she or Laurent are personally involved—they have no reason to target the Volturi. Though it <em>does</em> expand the range of our search.” Alice made another appalled face. “They could have told <em>anyone</em>.”</p><p>Caius groaned. And for a moment I mirrored his exasperated expression. <em>Great. This is just great. </em></p><p>“But I’m glad Bella brought it up all the same,” Alice interjected before anyone could get mad at me for wasting time with pointless accusations. “I almost forgot about the Denali clan for a second there. Of course, <em>they </em>would know. And they’re not too far away themselves—they live in Alaska.”</p><p>Aro raised an eyebrow curiously. “You think the <em>other </em>vegetarians are responsible for this?”</p><p>There was a hint of irony in his tone. And I couldn’t help but smile wryly, despite myself.</p><p>
  <em>Wouldn’t that be funny. </em>
</p><p>Alice shrugged. “They have a rather painful history with us—the former leader of their coven was executed by our organization hundreds of years ago for creating an immortal child. So, it’s possible, after much strategizing, they decided to finally retaliate.”</p><p>I felt my hand rise over my mouth in shock. The Denali clan used to have a different leader? I had no clue who their current leader was—I’d never met them. But my heart felt a searing pang at the idea of them loosing their former head, all the same. If the Cullens somehow lost Carlisle…</p><p>I shook myself to banish that awful thought.</p><p>“But it’s anyone’s guess really,” Alice rushed to add. “I’m just saying if we’re making a list of potential candidates…” she looked meaningfully toward Caius—as though that was usually his role. “Then, they should be on it.”</p><p>I flinched. “I don’t know…” I began uneasily.</p><p>I hated that we were throwing around suspicions so broadly right now. It felt like someone had let loose an ignited flamethrower, leaving it to spin wildly out of control, spurting hot flames of accusation in every direction.</p><p>“You’ve never met them, have you?” Alice asked. </p><p>I looked down at my feet. “No.”</p><p>“Well, that might change,” Alice announced cryptically. Then, without any sort of warning, she spun on her heels to face the three thrones again, and started doling out orders, like she was one in charge.</p><p>“Caius, I’m going to need you, Marcus and Aro to compile a list. I need the name of every vampire who has ever met me. And the names of every vampire who has ever met them.”</p><p>Caius glared daggers at Alice for daring to command him in anything. And for a horrifying moment, I thought he was going to seize her by the neck, the way he’d grabbed Edward four days ago.</p><p>His boots hit the ground with a rather loud <em>thud. </em>And he was, in an instant, all the way out of his chair.</p><p>But a fraction of a second later, before anything could happen, Caius received a forbidding gesture from Aro. Then Aro inclined his head towards Chelsea—the tiniest request for her assistance. And, after only a beat of hesitation, she honed her melancholy crimson gaze on him.</p><p>It only took a moment for her gift to take effect. But Caius seemed to resent it all the same. He shot his brother one last baleful look, before he sighed, and sat back down, letting the accumulated tension ease out of his hard, pale body.</p><p>“That is a lot of names, Alice,” Marcus pointed out, hoping to diffuse any lingering anger in the room.</p><p>I found it surprising that he cared. Normally he was content to let things get violent, so long as they didn’t involve him. But the underlying suspicion I’d seen in his eyes earlier was still there. So perhaps that was the reason for his uncharacteristic intervention.</p><p>Of course, I couldn’t be sure.</p><p>“Well, we’ve got to start <em>somewhere</em>,” Alice told him, placing her tiny hands defiantly on her hips. “Once you’ve got the list, I can start to narrow it down. And then we can visit the most likely candidates.”</p><p>Marcus nodded. He seemed to agree with me that Alice’s plan was sound. Then, after shooting a tiny glance in Caius’ direction, and determining that he was still visibly enraged, but seated, he went back to staring boredly into space.</p><p>“And what do you plan to do in the meantime, while we compile this list?” Aro asked, his eyes flicking rapidly between the faces of his two brothers, and Alice. He seemed to be interested in everyone’s expressions and couldn’t pick just one place to look.  </p><p>“I’ve got plenty to do,” Alice told him honestly. “Futures to review, contingencies to prepare for,” she listed, numbering them off on her fingers. “And of course, I’ll need to prep Bella.”</p><p>I stiffened where I stood. <em>Oh, boy. I’m in for it now. </em></p><p>“We can help train the girl,” Caius surprised me by contributing. And he surprised me even more by sounding willing, rather than begrudging about the idea. Even if he still harbored a significant amount of anger towards Alice.</p><p>“She will need diverse training,” he pointed out. “Combat. Our history. Our etiquette. <em>Italian</em>, of course, so we don’t have to conduct all these meetings in English.”</p><p>He snorted then, and I realized with a stunned jolt that the coven was already making one huge accommodation for me. They were all speaking in a different language than they usually did. All because there was one in their midst who wouldn’t understand <em>anything</em> otherwise.</p><p>I felt a prickle of misgiving about my earlier anger. Perhaps I had been too harsh on the other members of the Volturi for thinking they weren’t trying to include me in their conversations. They obviously already were doing a lot to try and make me feel at home. I was just an ungrateful American.</p><p>“She will also need to become familiar with our formations and cues,” Caius went on, practically. “And, naturally, Aro will want to test her powers and their limitations.”</p><p>Alice bobbed her head enthusiastically. “Right. Yes,” she acknowledged. “But I’m going to need that list.”</p><p>“Of course,” Aro agreed hastily, to cut off the furious tirade threatening to spill out of his brother.  Apparently, he did <em>not </em>like being ordered around. At least, not if the way his jaw was clenched and his hands were spasming with lethal intent were any indication.</p><p>“But my brother is also right,” Aro went on, keeping his eyes on his wrathful brother. “Isabella also needs to be prepared for what is coming if she is going to be of any use to us. So how about I propose a compromise? Until we have narrowed the range of our suspects to a number of people we can visit, we will split our time, Daytime will be spent training Isabella. But as soon as night falls, we will resume compiling our list. Is that acceptable to you?”</p><p>Alice mulled it over for a minute, her glazed red eyes peering up into the future for a moment to check for any foreseeable problems. Then, evidently finding none, she dipped her head and nodded.</p><p>“I think I can work with that,” she said. “Though, I am curious, who will teach her what?”</p><p>I wasn’t sure exactly why that was important. But Aro seemed willing to humor her anyway.</p><p>“I will handle the formations, and the etiquette, of course,” he said, splaying a hand over his chest. “Marcus has agreed to teach the girl our histories. He knows the important parts as well as I do,” he added, gesturing to the bored vampire to his right, before pointing to the white-haired vampire on his left. “And Caius will oversee her combat training.”</p><p>Marcus didn’t say anything to confirm that he would teach me anything. But he didn’t deny it either.</p><p>Caius, on the other hand, gave me a short little nod. A nod that, despite who it was coming from, and what he was committing to, made me feel a lot better. I didn’t want to be a burden to <em>him </em>after all.</p><p>“What about her powers?” Alice demanded. “Who is going to train her to use those?”</p><p>Aro tapped his chin in thought, then ran his crimson eyes down the three lines of cloaked figures standing at attention in front of him, surveying his options. “Renata, I think, would be the best teacher,” he decided at last, settling on the woman in the beginning of the second row. “Her gift is similar to Isabella’s. And I will give her my permission to call in anyone else she needs to practice on. Or <em>against</em>.”</p><p>Aro cast a meaningful glance in Jane’s direction.</p><p>I felt a shiver race down my spine. <em>He wanted to pit me against her? </em></p><p>Aro, oblivious to my horror at the idea of training with <em>Jane </em>of all people, continued. “That way, Isabella will have something to work on at night. Unless,” he stipulated suddenly. “You plan to hold Renata to the same restrictions…?”</p><p>Aro trailed off uncertainly, like he expected the answer to have an equal chance of going either way. And Renata, looking abruptly terrified, held her breath as she waited for the petite vampire’s answer.</p><p> Alice, a moment later, shook her head. “No. She won’t be any help compiling the list,” she declared firmly. Which I thought was a little rude, until I saw Renata’s face.</p><p>She looked incredibly relieved. Like she wouldn’t have known at all how to proceed had Alice asked her to help in that way, and was happy to be released from the responsibility.   </p><p>“So, Renata can train Bella at night,” Alice allowed. “I might have to steal Bella for a few hours though, every now and then,” she added, frowning as if she’d suddenly thought of something important. </p><p>I inhaled sharply. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt so sure in that moment that whatever Alice was going to say next wasn’t going to be pleasant.</p><p>And it appeared I wasn’t alone in that assumption. Several other members of the guard leaned forward curiously, wondering what might be so important that Alice would dare to propose interrupting my training to complete it.</p><p>We all widened our eyes, and inclined our ears in anticipation… </p><p>Alice made a scandalized face. “Bella can’t just wear the same thing, day after day!”</p><p>Several of the guard members groaned audibly. And I couldn’t help but snicker. <em>Of course, </em>even in the face of a potential <em>apocalypse,</em> Alice could be trusted to be worried about fashion.</p><p>I rolled my eyes. And Aro made an impatient gesture, urging Alice to get to the point.</p><p>She pouted petulantly for a minute. But, to everyone’s relief, she relented.</p><p>“Anyway, we still haven’t decided who is going to teach her Italian,” Alice pointed out.</p><p>“I can do it,” a soft, seductive voice surprised me by answering.</p><p><em>Heidi?</em> I whipped around to look at her, and gaped in disbelief. <em>Heidi was volunteering to teach me? </em></p><p>“Day, night, whenever,” she offered, making her hands do a little flip flop to suggest she didn’t really care. That her schedule was wide open. But somehow the little movement was entrancing.</p><p>“Night, probably,” Alice contributed, seemingly unaffected by her charms. I marveled at her composure for a moment, until suddenly someone else spoke. And my attention was ripped away from Heidi’s sensuous curves, back into the present.</p><p>“What do you say, Isabella?” Aro inquired genially. “Is this acceptable to you?”</p><p>I took only a fraction of a second to think it over. It sounded like they planned to keep me very busy. And that was alright with me. Less time to wallow in guilt. Less time to remember the awful thing I’d done.</p><p>I nodded with a little more zeal than was necessary. “Sounds good to me. When do we start?”</p><p>…</p><p>As it so happened, Aro wanted to start right away. The day was still young. And he wanted to make the most of it before he was caught up in compiling Alice’s list of suspects. So soon after everyone was dismissed, he flitted to my side while the rest of the guard was filing out of the room, and requested that I come with him.</p><p>Alice had somewhere else to be. So, she left with the others, giving me a sad, small wave before she rushed out into the dusty hallway. But, while it was sad to see her go after she’d given me so much support, I wasn’t exactly <em>afraid </em>of being alone with Aro. He was doing his best to be approachable—even if he didn’t always succeed on that front. And I was a vampire now, so it wasn’t like he would be inclined, on instinct, to hurt me.  </p><p>He <em>could, </em>I supposed, try to hurt me anyway. His teeth could still cut through my skin, if they really wanted to. But I was a newborn vampire, meaning my strength was superior to his, so I had a good chance, despite my lack of training, of winning in a fight. And, of course, it would be rather pointless to try and kill me after he had gone to such lengths to convince me to come over to his side. After he had changed me himself.  </p><p>So, I felt relatively at ease as he led me swiftly out of the conference room, and down another, long, winding hallway. And I made no protest when we reached a door that opened into a tiny little room, only a little larger than a broom closet. Even if the room was triggering my claustrophobia.</p><p>The cramped space was mostly filled by half a desk—and I do mean <em>half</em>, this desk had once been much longer, but it was splintered on one edge, like someone had broken it in two. Behind the desk was an equally destroyed bookcase full of dusty books and board game boxes, and a rickety wooden chair. And in front were a handful of mismatched cushions and stools, splintered and moth-eaten.</p><p>Once we were inside, Aro gestured for me to sit.</p><p>I complied without hesitation, taking the ottoman that looked most likely not to collapse under me. To my relief, it held up. Although I was worried its dusty cushions would leave gray marks on my black jeans. </p><p>While I silently fretted, trying to reassure myself that a little dust would be sure to wash out, Aro took his own seat on the rickety chair, behind the half-desk. The desk that had me even more worried than my old cushions did. I stared at the broken side, tracing the individual wood grains in the splinters curiously with my supernaturally enhanced sight.</p><p><em>What had happened? Had one of the Volturi thrown someone against it? Cracked it right in half? </em>  </p><p>“Very good, Isabella,” Aro enthused.</p><p>I blinked up at him, tearing my eyes away from the jagged edge. “What?”</p><p>“You followed me here without question,” he explained, smiling, pleased.</p><p>I prickled. <em>Was that really a good thing? To follow blindly?</em></p><p>But before I could ask, suddenly Aro extended a single hand, reaching across the broken desk. His palm was facing upward in invitation.</p><p>I felt my stomach lurch. <em>Would this time be different, now that I was a vampire? </em></p><p>I knew both Aro and Alice were counting on my “power” to transfer over into my immortality. That my “gift” was somehow crucial to the upcoming fight. Though exactly <em>how</em> my power was supposed to help hadn’t been explained yet.</p><p>But I honestly didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know if there was anything I <em>could </em>expect. Everything about being a vampire was so <em>different </em>than I had imagined when I first learned Edward was one. And Alice had been wrong about things before.</p><p>But even though I couldn’t be certain my shield still existed, and the prospect of having my mind wholly exposed terrified me, I didn’t hesitate for too long. I was curious too.</p><p>So, tentatively, I took Aro’s hand.</p><p>Aro's eyes glittered briefly as he smoothed his other hand over mine, sandwiching it in his skin—skin that felt warm and soft, now that we were the same species. Then his pale eyelids fluttered closed.</p><p>I felt a tremor of anxiety. <em>Were my thoughts pouring into his head? </em></p><p>But Aro’s eyes were only shut for a moment before they shot open, and regarded me with reverential awe.</p><p>I smiled sheepishly at him. And he breathed a little <em>sigh</em>. “<em>Remarkable.</em>”</p><p>“Still nothing?” I asked, unable to contain it.</p><p>Aro nodded. “Still nothing,” he repeated. Though his voice was barely a whisper. “But I should not be so surprised. After all, this is exactly as Alice predicted…”</p><p>I raised a mahogany eyebrow. “She saw us here, in this room?”</p><p>Aro shook his head. “No, not here in particular. At least, not until I decided to take you here myself. But she did predict that your immunity would carry over into immortality.”</p><p>I nodded, feeling a flood of relief. I knew that. But still to have confirmation was reassuring.</p><p>Of course, Aro seemed to find my continued resistance to him unnervingly fascinating. He kept me trapped in his firm, unrelenting grasp for several minutes. And sunk his deep, penetrating gaze into my skin, as if he was trying to unveil its secrets through the sheer force of his stare.</p><p>He held my hand for a lot longer than I would have liked. Just when I was starting to feel uncomfortable, however, he released my hand. Then he steepled his fingers together, his elbows propped up against the dusty surface of the splintered desk. </p><p>"There is much to explore,” Aro breathed, excitement glittering in his eyes. “But we will test your powers later. This morning, I will be teaching you proper etiquette.”</p><p>I inclined my head. “Etiquette?”</p><p>“Yes, you have much to learn,” Aro contributed. </p><p>My face warped with confusion. I didn’t doubt him that my etiquette was remiss—I had never learned what you were supposed to use the big spoon for versus the small spoon. Nor any other, confusing, upper-echelon-of-society rules. But I failed to see why that was important right now.</p><p>
  <em>We have a newborn army threatening our extinction and you’re worried about my <strong>manners</strong>? </em>
</p><p>“I really don’t see how that’s relevant,” I told him, crossing my arms over my chest. </p><p>Aro chuckled. “I can see how it might seem that way to you,” he allowed. “But it is <em>essential </em>for your induction into our ranks to go smoothly.”</p><p>“Okay…” <em>Was it really, though? </em>“Could you name an example?”</p><p>Aro beamed. “How about we start with this?” he suggested. “How would you address me?”</p><p>I looked at him quizzically. “Aro?”</p><p>That seemed like the obvious answer. It was his name, after all.</p><p>Aro chuckled. “So familiar…”</p><p>And suddenly I realized what he was getting at.</p><p>“Oh… you mean… what title I should use…”</p><p>Aro nodded. And I wanted to smack myself in the forehead.</p><p>I felt stupid for not realizing it earlier. Of <em>course, </em>one of the men that was basically considered vampire royalty would have some fancy, preferred method of address. I should have seen that coming. After all, Jane had addressed him as “master” this morning. And most other members of the Volturi appeared to do the same.</p><p>I tried thinking back, to see if anyone besides Alice had ever directly spoken to him without some title, but the earlier memories—my human memories—were so murky and out-of-focus it was difficult to recall. I felt like I was watching an old film underwater. Everything was so fuzzy and distorted. Warped by imperfect recollection. And as I poured over it, I felt uncomfortable.  </p><p>I tried, during the split seconds while I processed Aro’s reply, to recall other things. Everything that had happened in the last twelve hours was crystal clear—a little <em>too </em>clear, when it came to the memory of the murder I had committed. But I had to exert extra effort to spin back to any time before the burning of venom in my veins. And what I found, behind that harsh, dividing line between my mortality and my immortality was ultimately disappointing.</p><p><em>Had my memory always been this bad?</em> I wondered.<em> Or is my new memory just so good that everything else looks bad in comparison?</em></p><p>I had a sneaking suspicion it was the latter. And, though it was uncomfortable to swim through my old memories, I resolved to make an effort in the next few days anyway. After all, I didn’t want to completely forget my human life. Even if there were parts of it I wouldn’t mind letting slip into oblivion.</p><p>I shook myself to bring myself back to the present. “What <em>should </em>I call you?” I asked.</p><p>Would he want to be called <em>master, </em>as well? Or <em>my king</em>? <em>His Royal Highness, </em>maybe?</p><p>I wasn't sure what to call him, or even if I was supposed to afford him any title at all. That seemed to be what he was getting at. But Alice just called him Aro. And he seemed perfectly fine with that.</p><p>Of course, I was fairly certain Alice could have three heads and Aro wouldn't mind in the slightest. He would let her get away with almost anything if it meant he had access to her amazing power.</p><p>“Well, ultimately, that is up to you,” Aro replied, with surprising openness.</p><p>I blinked at him, more stupefied than before. “If it doesn’t matter, then why bother bringing it up?”</p><p>“Did you catch Caius’ anger at the end of our meeting?” Aro asked.</p><p>I bristled. It had been impossible to miss.</p><p>“My brother was angry because of a breach of etiquette,” Aro explained. “If Alice had afforded him the proper respect, he would not have gotten so angry. I was able to quell him, with Chelsea’s assistance. But I may not always be there to do so. And if you do not want to incur his wrath, or anyone else’s, it is best that you understand how we operate.”</p><p>I nodded—twitchy and fast, like all of my motions were now. I supposed that made sense.</p><p>But then, something else occurred to me. Something that made all of this seem horribly unnecessary. “Why have all these rules at all, though… if they’re just going to make people step on each other’s toes?”</p><p>It seemed silly to me, to get angry about something like that. <em>Was it really that big of a deal if Alice forgot a few pointless, niceties? </em></p><p>Aro tapped his chin ponderously. “Let me see if I can explain this to you in a way you understand. You see, most of us here were born in a different time. And you must understand that as such, not everyone was raised believing the same things about authority figures that you do," he explained.</p><p>“I still don’t see how…”</p><p>“You personally are not fond of authoritative titles, I take it?” Aro cut in.</p><p>I stiffened. Then rubbed my elbows self-consciously. “Well… no,” I admitted.</p><p>“You find them stuffy and pointless?” he pressed.</p><p>I gawked at his boldness. I would have never presumed to say such a thing to his face. But then I remembered he was used to reading the entirety of people’s thoughts. And that he had probably heard a lot worse directed at him as a result. So, I figured he could handle the unfiltered truth.</p><p>“Yeah. And um… I mean no offense by this,” I prefaced, just in case he did decide to become affronted. “But I also think people who <em>need </em>titles are a bit… um…” I struggled to find a diplomatic word.</p><p>“Narcissistic?” Aro guessed.</p><p>I nodded—jerkily again. And Aro chuckled.</p><p>“I understand why it might seem that way to you,” he relayed in a sympathetic tone. “From your perspective, though some people hold positions of power as a result of greater skill, they have no greater value than any other individual. Your authorities are elected,” he reminded me, like that was unusual—and I supposed to him, it was. “So they are subject to the votes of the people; servants to the people. And if they do not comply with the people's wishes, they are considered scoundrels.”</p><p>I nodded again. Everything Aro was saying about my perception of authority was more or less true.</p><p>“All of this, colors your expectations of me as a coven leader," Aro went on. “But the rest of guard, excepting Alice, of course, are more accustomed to monarchy than democracy—and as such they expect and respond best to authority that behaves like a king, rather than a president. Specifically, authority that is firm, austere, and intolerant of any insubordination."</p><p>I nodded a third time. I was starting to understand his point, I think.</p><p>He seemed to comprehend where I was coming from, and wasn't actually upset with me for how I’d treated him so far. But I was guessing my behavior towards him until now was completely inappropriate from a medieval mindset.</p><p>"You have been very cooperative thus far,” he praised, before I could become too crestfallen. “And I appreciate that greatly. But it will only be more imperative going forward that you present a loyal face. If you have any disagreements with me, try, as often as possible, to address them in private. And if you would like me to do something for you, try to frame it as a suggestion. Presuming to order around a king is an unacceptable behavior," he said, confirming my suspicions. "And if I were to submit to your demands and not correct your disobedience…?"</p><p>He left the question unanswered. But I completely comprehended what he meant.</p><p>From the other Volturi guard’s perspective, any leader whose right to reign was contingent on sucking up to his underlings would be perceived as weak and unworthy of following. A "proper" leader ought to be capable of subduing all dissenters under his feet.</p><p>And so, if Aro were to publicly 'surrender to my authority' by taking an order from me, then the guards who had sworn allegiance to him on account of his organization’s unmatched power, would desert him. And complete anarchy would ensue.</p><p>I didn't need Aro to be uncompromising to see him as a capable leader. He was right, my 21st century perception of authority meant that I actually preferred a leader who was more relatable, more willing to negotiate and listen to those "beneath" him.</p><p>But to the others, democracy was an alien concept. Respect was earned by being the toughest and most ambitious one around, not bestowed because of agreement on hot-button political topics. Your opinions about how the supernatural community ought to be run didn't matter if you couldn't <em>enforce</em> them.</p><p>"In private, of course, you may speak your mind,” Aro reiterated. “Sometimes Alice even calls me names.”</p><p>I sat back in my chair, stiff with shock. Aro would tolerate <em>insults? </em></p><p>“But it is uncouth to do so before the others. In their eyes, it is sullying for me to be treated like everyone else,” he explained. “In fact, I will already be forced to reassert myself in their eyes because of Alice’s treatment of me and my brothers today," he divulged.</p><p>My eyes bugged out. “Wait, really? I don’t remember her calling you any names?”</p><p>Aro giggled. “Not in so many words, no,” he agreed. “If she had insulted any of us three <em>directly</em> in front of the others<em>, </em>I may have been forced to enact some <em>discipline</em>,” he said with a certain steel to that last word that I didn’t like.</p><p>I winced. I didn’t want to try and picture what <em>that </em>might look like.  </p><p>“But she gave us direct orders—something that is unacceptable,” he clarified.</p><p>I swallowed.</p><p>“I understand that we are in a dire situation right now, so I will give her lenience when I speak to her next,” Aro added before I could get too worried. “Still, even—no <em>especially</em>—in these trying times, the appearance of my authority is extremely important. Surely, you understand that we cannot afford to lose any more support now?"</p><p>It took a brief moment for the full ramifications of what Aro was saying to sink in. But as soon as it had, I bobbed my head enthusiastically. We’d already lost so many members of the Volturi guard to fear, and personal obligations. We didn’t need to lose any more because they thought Aro was in an incapable leader.</p><p>“So, what do you need me to do?” I asked.</p><p>“I need you to listen carefully to what I teach you in these lessons, then follow my instructions to the best of your ability,” he requested. And I nodded. That sounded reasonable. “That way, you will not inadvertently come off as rude, or acting above your station.”</p><p>
  <em>Above my station?</em>
</p><p>I chewed lightly on the outer corner of my lip. I’d never had to be part of such a strict hierarchy before. But, since it was for the greater good, and Aro wasn’t demanding respect out of some need for self-aggrandizement, I was willing to give it a shot. So, I nodded, and motioned for Aro to continue.</p><p>“When you address me in front of the others, affording me a title of respect is one way you could appease them,” Aro suggested. “Or you could try some kind of gesture—a small bow, a hand over your heart, a salute,” he listed. Though, seeing the grimace on my face, he quickly changed his tune. “But if that makes you uncomfortable, you needn’t worry about it. Not every member does so, and I do not require it.”</p><p>I sighed with relief. It was nice to know I wouldn’t be penalized. Because even if I gave my best effort, I was bound to forget. This was just all so… <em>different </em>from how I had been raised.</p><p>“Do you understand?”</p><p>Suddenly, I ducked my head, giving Aro the tiniest of bows in acknowledgement. “Yes….”</p><p>I tried to add some kind of honorific address at the end of my sentence to further convey my willingness to comply. Like <em>sir </em>or <em>master. </em>But the words were completely foreign to my egalitarian tongue. So, I quickly swallowed them before they rolled out inelegantly from unpracticed lips.</p><p>Aro smiled, catching my uncertain pause. And then he went on, as though nothing had happened.</p><p>“My brothers are pickier—Caius will <em>demand</em> respect. And Marcus will rarely even respond without it,” he clarified, which made sense, based on what I’d seen from the two men, thus far. “So, it is best, at first, if you go through me, if you want anything from them.”</p><p>I nodded. I could do that.</p><p>“Also, do take care to phrase all requests of myself or them as suggestions, not demands,” he emphasized, yet again. Which I took to mean this was especially important. “And do try to comply with my desires with as little resistance as possible, so long as they are reasonable, at least until you have established yourself here.”</p><p>I nodded again. That might be a little bit more difficult. I usually liked to ask questions first, and follow orders when I understood what I was being asked to do. But then again, I had been willing to follow Aro into this room with only a vague idea of why. So perhaps it would not be so difficult to trust him, going forward.</p><p>I pondered this, as Aro explained more things. Perhaps I was still a figure on his chessboard. And there was a part of me—the fiercely independent, 21<sup>st</sup> century part of me—that wouldn’t ever be at ease with that. But now that I knew Aro’s reasons, I found myself warming up to the idea of playing a more subordinate role.</p><p>Each vampire in the coven needed a different sort of leader. And Aro, being the mastermind that he was, was trying to be all of those people at once—simultaneously intimidating and unassuming, compassionate and merciless, uncompromising and flexible. I was deeply impressed that he was able to navigate it so masterfully. Clearly, he was perfectly cut out to rule the supernatural world</p><p>The least I could do was not make it too difficult for him.</p><p>…</p><p>Marcus taught me next. Finished teaching me for the day, Aro took me to meet him in another little room around noon. The rooms were very similar to one another—both cramped and made of cinnamon brown brick. Although this one, rather than being full of broken furniture, only housed a small writing desk and a few, dusty, leather-bound journals.</p><p>There weren’t even any chairs to sit on. Which I thought was odd at first. Until I remembered that vampires didn’t get sore feet. We could, quite comfortably, stand for hours on end.</p><p>That would take some… getting used to.</p><p>As would Marcus’ rather lackluster demeanor.</p><p>It was difficult not to take his perpetual boredom and lifelessness personally. When Aro left, mentioning something about “reasserting his power” before he disappeared, at first, I thought Marcus was mad at me. Normally when people stared at me with such cold, dead eyes, it meant I had offended them in some way.</p><p>But when I started to apologize, Marcus stopped me.</p><p>“There is no need, Isabella,” he said in a soft, raspy voice. “I am not angry with you.”</p><p>I nodded, feeling kind of stupid for assuming. Then, following Aro’s instructions from earlier today, I gestured to Marcus, and gave him a little inclination of my head that wasn’t <em>quite </em>a bow—a signal that I was ready to listen to what he had to say.</p><p>Marcus dead face betrayed no emotion. So, I had no way of knowing if I had done that right. <em>Maybe I had moved too fast?</em> Not knowing how to slow down yet, I was doing everything at top speed.</p><p>But he did respond. Which I took as a good sign.</p><p>“I do not know how much information the Cullens have shared with you regarding our history,” he said, looking at me in a manner I would have called curious, if there was any animation left in him at all. But of course, there wasn’t.</p><p>I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly. Which probably looked funny with how quickly I did it.</p><p>“Um… not much,” I admitted. “I know all the… physical stuff about being a vampire. And all the Cullens’ personal stories. Well, except Jasper,” I added. “He’s… never really been forthcoming about his past…” I trailed off. I was getting off topic. “But, anything beyond the history of the Cullens… I really don’t know.”   </p><p>Marcus nodded at a glacial pace. Then he spoke, his voice low, and tired. “I suppose I should start at the beginning, then.”</p><p>I raised an eyebrow at him. “At the beginning?” Then, remembering my manners, I backpedaled a bit. “I mean, if that is what you think is most… uh… prudent then—”</p><p>Marcus slowly held up a hand to silence my ramblings. And, recognizing that cue all too well from my earlier lesson from Aro, my lips automatically snapped shut.</p><p>If Marcus was impressed, he didn’t show it.</p><p>“Yes, I do think it’s prudent that we start at the beginning,” he stated, firm on that point. “At least, as far back as we know, anyway,” he stipulated suddenly. “None of us are really sure what happened at our true beginning—what made vampires come to be in the first place. But let us start four thousand years ago.”</p><p>I swallowed. “<em>Four thousand years ago?</em>”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>...and there's another one, folks! What do you think so far? What do you think happened four-thousand years ago? And who could be the culprit?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There' some difficult stuff discussed in this chapter. I'll put specific warnings in the end notes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>CHAPTER THREE: HISTORY</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>
  <em>And so much to learn, so much to learn!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I know you don’t have my enthusiasm for collecting histories</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But be tolerant with me brother,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>As I add a chapter that stuns me with its improbability</em>
</p>
<p>- Aro, Breaking Dawn, Chapter 36</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>“<em>Four-thousand years ago?</em>” I repeated, stunned.</p>
<p>“Four-thousand, five-hundred and six, if we must be exact,” Marcus corrected, delicately opening one of the aged, leather-bound journals on the small writing desk in front of him, and tracing an ashy brown finger along a line of scrawled ink.</p>
<p>My head twitched—a tiny, swift nod—as I stood on the other side of the desk. “Okay… What happened in…” I leaned over sharply to read the text Marcus was pointing to. It was surprisingly legible, even in upside-down cursive. “…2,500 BC?”</p>
<p>“<em>BC</em>,” Marcus snorted. “Such an arbitrary division of time.”</p>
<p>I was surprised that he almost looked like he cared. Like it bothered him that humans used the birth of Christ to mark the time. But the fleeting look of disgust on his face didn’t last for more than a tiny fraction of a second. Then it melted back into his usual mask of perpetual boredom.</p>
<p>“But no matter. I speak to you of four-thousand years ago, because the oldest vampire coven still standing was formed then,” Marcus began, in a quiet, unhurried voice. “It was in Egypt—an unlikely place for vampires, you might think, because of the sun. But things were very different back then. There were no rules against revealing our true nature to humans.”</p>
<p>I gawked at this. “No rules against…” I trailed off, unable to believe it. “But then… how did you…?”</p>
<p>“Fend off the armies of humans trying to kill us?” Marcus suggested in a dull monotone.</p>
<p>I nodded vigorously. <em>There would be armies, wouldn’t there? </em></p>
<p>I couldn’t imagine humans would be <em>happy </em>about having the potential to become a vampire’s meal. Even if, at the time, they didn’t have weapons that stood a chance—like missiles or nuclear bombs.</p>
<p>“Most of our kind simply killed any who tried to oppose us. An angry mob, as you have seen, is no match for even a lone vampire.”</p>
<p>I bristled. Carlisle’s human memories were as foggy as my own. But I couldn’t ever forget how completely outmatched his little militia of would-be-vampire-hunters had been against an actual creature of the night. And I could easily imagine, from what Marcus was saying, similar incidents of conflict between humans and vampires ended much the same way.</p>
<p>“But this caused problems of its own,” Marcus continued. “If every human who picked up a pitchfork died, then…” he trailed off deliberately.</p>
<p>Sensing he wanted me to finish his sentence, I added, “…Then eventually there would be no more people left. No more… um… blood to drink.”</p>
<p>Marcus nodded—a slow, solemn gesture, nothing like my super-fast twitches—before he continued. “So, most vampires in that time were nomads, never feeding in one place for too long, to prevent rumors from spreading, and forcing them to slaughter too many humans. It was never because any of these vampires <em>cared </em>about human life, of course,” he felt the need to add. “Just because it was practical. Sustainable.”</p>
<p>I swallowed. <em>So cold. </em>But Marcus was right. It was the <em>logical </em>thing to do.</p>
<p>“The Egyptian coven started out like any other band of nomads,” Marcus revealed. “A mated pair—Amun and Kebi—were the principle founders in 2500 BC. They took in a few others here and there: abandoned newborns, as well as a few immortals they created themselves. You might recognize some of their former members. Amun changed Demetri about a thousand years ago.”</p>
<p>My eyes widened at this. “Demetri was with them?”</p>
<p>“Yes. He stayed with them for a few years,” Marcus confirmed. “But soon enough Aro discovered his power. And you know how he is.”</p>
<p>Marcus rolled his eyes. And I nodded vigorously again. I did know.  </p>
<p>“But long before Amun changed Demetri…”</p>
<p>Marcus traced his fingers gradually over another line of ink. And I jerked forward again to read it.</p>
<p>
  <em>1400BC – 1200BC – The Volturi family was formed. </em>
</p>
<p>I stood back; my eyes wide. “Wait, so the Egyptians were around <em>before</em> the Volturi?” I blurted out, stunned.</p>
<p>I’d never really thought about that. To my modern mind, the Volturi seemed like a fixture of vampire society as old as the earth itself. But of course, that couldn’t be right. Like everyone else, they had to have a beginning. Even if it was thousands of years ago.</p>
<p>Marcus nodded slowly again.</p>
<p> “Our coven—at least its core members, Aro, Caius, Athenodora, and I—all came together a little over three-thousand years ago. We bonded, at first, over our mutual interest in the arts, music, literature, science and other things that could only be gained from <em>society</em>. Things most other vampires of our time had no interest in.”</p>
<p>I thought back to the nomads I’d ran into when the Cullens were playing baseball. How <em>wild </em>they’d seemed. More like animals than people. And I wondered, if that was the norm. If most vampires didn’t feel the need to own houses and changes of clothes and cars. If most vampires didn’t act as human as the Cullens or the Volturi did.</p>
<p>It wasn’t a very comfortable thought. Even though I wasn’t a very materialistic person, I just couldn’t imagine having <em>nothing </em>but what you could carry on your person. And having no physical place to call home.</p>
<p>Marcus made a choked sound. “Didyme was there too, but…”</p>
<p>Marcus looked abruptly like he was in the worst pain imaginable. Like simply mentioning her name raked his heart over the coals. And I automatically felt a stab of empathy for him. Losing the woman he’d loved above all else… that had to be <em>torture</em>. </p>
<p>“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I enthused as sincerely as I could. I wasn’t very good at grieving with other people. But, because Marcus’ current face was absolutely devastating, I gave it my best shot. “I… I didn’t know her. But from what Aro showed me, she seemed like a very nice person.”</p>
<p>The tiniest fraction of a smile twisted the corners of Marcus’ lips. “Thank you, Isabella,” he breathed, appreciatively. “I think, if she were here, Didyme would like you very much.”</p>
<p>I blinked in shock. “You think?”</p>
<p>“She always did have a soft spot for the new recruits,” Marcus said, smiling fondly.</p>
<p>I smiled back. But ours were both sad smiles. And his quickly fell.  </p>
<p>“I was… happier then. Content to enjoy the things we preserved,” Marcus went on in the same, lifeless monotone as before. “But Aro had high ambitions from the start. He wanted to bring order to the supernatural world.”</p>
<p><em>Order. </em>“So, I take it things were a lot more chaotic back then?”</p>
<p>Marcus nodded a third time. “Oh yes. Much more chaotic. Nomads squabbled with each other openly, razing whole cities in their never-ending battles for blood and power. Mobs of stubborn humans gathered to try and stop them—only to be cut down themselves in a matter of minutes. And the other supernatural creatures were just as lawless.”</p>
<p>I inhaled sharply. “Wait, there’s <em>more</em> than just vampires?”</p>
<p>I already knew of one other supernatural creature—the werewolves down in La Push. But if the Volturi hadn’t discovered them, I didn’t want to be the traitor to reveal their existence. Who knew what the Volturi would do if they found out they were not alone?</p>
<p>“Of course,” Marcus breathed, like it should have been obvious.</p>
<p>“What else is there?” I demanded. Then, abruptly remembering my manners, I added, “I mean… if you don’t mind telling me…?”</p>
<p>Marcus lightly shook his head. “I do not mind. I am here to educate you after all. Of course, Aro knows a lot more about this sort of thing, than me. I never had much patience for the other creatures.”</p>
<p>Marcus seemed to be implying I should ask Aro instead. But I pouted. I wanted to know <em>now.</em></p>
<p>And, after seeing my face, Marcus gave a soft little sigh, and decided to oblige. “Very well, what do you know about Children of the Moon?”</p>
<p><em>Children of the moon. </em>I’d heard that name before. Someone had brought them up in the conference room earlier today. And according to Aro’s memories one had been responsible for taking Caius’ arm—the one Vera had helped him grow back. But beyond those two oblique references, I knew nothing about the creatures themselves.</p>
<p>I shook my head very quickly. “I’ve… never heard of them until recently.”</p>
<p>Marcus grunted in acknowledgement. “Caius’ extinction attempts must have been successful.”</p>
<p>I gaped at this. “<em>Extinction attempts?</em>”</p>
<p>Marcus nodded. “My brother is not one to let things go. A Child of the Moon attacked him once, many centuries ago, and he decided that the entire species did not deserve to live as a result.”</p>
<p>I sucked in a breath. <em>Remind me never to piss him off. </em></p>
<p>“Aro, of course, would have stopped him if the vendetta did not suit his purposes,” Marcus added to let me know that his other brother supported the idea too. “But Children of the Moon are not like us. They are, in all notable respects, human, until the three nights of the full moon. Then they transform into uncontrollably violent wolf-man-monsters with a hunger for human flesh.”</p>
<p>I swallowed.</p>
<p>“You might call them werewolves,” Marcus added.</p>
<p><em>Werewolves? </em>The description Marcus gave lined up closer to Hollywood’s depiction. But it sounded nothing like the werewolves I had actually met. The ones I’d befriended down in La Push. So, I was confused.</p>
<p>And apparently it showed.</p>
<p>“You are thinking of your friends, aren’t you?” Marcus pressed.</p>
<p>“<em>What</em>?”</p>
<p>
  <em>He can’t possibly know about them. Can he?</em>
</p>
<p>I looked at his face again, scanning it for clues. And my heart sank.</p>
<p>He could.</p>
<p>“Calm yourself, Isabella,” Marcus urged, when I started to unnecessarily hyperventilate. “My brothers and I mean <em>them </em>no harm. Though they may use the word ‘werewolf’ to describe themselves, it is only out of ignorance. They are not true werewolves.”</p>
<p>My confusion grew in the extreme. <em>Not werewolves?</em></p>
<p>“The more accurate term for them would be shape-shifters,” he told me. “Aro explained it to me the other day. Carlisle’s kin, Edward, chanced upon their ancestors in the 1930s. And Aro believes, from what he has seen, that those you have encountered are much like those we’ve met before, in other parts of the world.”</p>
<p>I felt like my jaw was going to hit the floor. “There are <em>more</em> people like the wolf pack?”</p>
<p>Marcus nodded. “Yes. But the choice of a wolf form was pure chance. The others we have met turn into bears or hawks or panthers. Aro thinks it has something to do with when the first change was made. That the first ones to change choose the form their descendants will take.”</p>
<p>My eyes sparked with fascination. The world was a lot bigger than I had previously thought.</p>
<p>But Marcus only shrugged. Clearly, he didn’t care. “Regardless, they have nothing to do with the Children of the Moon. Like many of us, they have inherited a skill from their fathers. It is genetic—they do not continue their species by infecting others the way true werewolves do.”</p>
<p><em>Infecting. </em>I didn’t like the way that sounded.</p>
<p>At least, until I had an epiphany. <em>Wasn’t that what vampires did?</em></p>
<p>“Children of the Moon have venom, too?”</p>
<p>If Marcus was offended by the comparison, he didn’t show it.</p>
<p>“It is similar to what we have, yes,” he confirmed. “Perhaps it is a mutation.”</p>
<p>I opened my mouth to say something. <em>A mutation?</em></p>
<p>“But—” he added, before I could interrupt him, “—that is not so much of a surprise. All supernatural creatures in this world seem to have some connection to the substance.”</p>
<p>My mouth gaped wider at that. And the previous question I’d been wanting to ask was replaced by a new one. “How so?”</p>
<p>“Despite thousands of years of research, we do not know where supernatural talents, such as Aro’s telepathy or Alice’s ability to see the future, or your gift, originate,” Marcus began to explain. “Nor do we know where the ability to shape-change comes from. They both seem to stem from a combination of personal temperament and genetics. But all these powers are in the same vein, so to speak, and all are triggered by vampire venom.”</p>
<p>My eyebrows raised at his last remark. “Triggered?”</p>
<p>“Your power should be stronger now that you have been made into a vampire,” Marcus pointed out—the uncertainty in his voice probably only because we had not formally tested that. “But some are so potent in their human form that they can fully manifest only in <em>proximity</em> to venom. The shape-shifters in Forks did this in response to the Cullens, yes?”</p>
<p><em>Proximity to venom. </em>Yeah, that had been what had done it.</p>
<p>I was a little taken aback that Marcus knew that the powers of the Quileutes were activated in response to vampires. But I figured the other shape-shifters he had encountered must work in a similar fashion. So, I nodded heartily.</p>
<p>“The presence of Children of the Moon typically garners the same reaction,” Marcus went on.  </p>
<p>I gasped. “So, if Sam had met a werewolf first…”</p>
<p>Marcus nodded. “He would have begun shape-shifting, yes. Although it may have been slightly different, since theirs is a different strain of venom than ours. Perhaps this ‘Sam’ would have been restricted in the times of day he could change. Or the number of times,” he suggested. “I cannot say. Werewolf venom is different than ours…”</p>
<p>I noted that he didn’t specify exactly how. Though his next statement clarified why.</p>
<p>“But we have not been able to study it much, since the extermination order was set in place…”</p>
<p><em>Oh right. Tearing them apart and burning the pieces immediately would kind of make scientific observations of them difficult… </em>I mused.</p>
<p>“Why <em>did </em>Aro go along with that?” I asked. I felt fairly certain the man had a good reason. Aro didn’t strike me as the type to let an entire species be wiped off the earth simply to fulfill some petty need for revenge.</p>
<p>“The Children of the Moon transform involuntarily,” Marcus told me. “It can happen when they are in the middle of a crowded street. Or in the middle of the woods. It does not matter where they are, or who can see them. If it is one of the three nights of the full moon, they <em>will </em>change.”</p>
<p>“So, they’re a liability.” I guessed.</p>
<p>Marcus sighed and nodded. “Yes. And not only that, but they are not lucid at all in their wolf-state. They are nothing more than savage beasts. They cannot reign in their hunger for human flesh. So, they kill, openly, and indiscriminately. They often slaughter people in public, leaving lots of witnesses for us to deal with.”</p>
<p>I swallowed. I could see how that was bad.</p>
<p>“So Aro decided, if Caius wanted to take it upon himself to remove them… why not let him? They are a <em>menace </em>to our secrecy. And, less importantly, to the human population numbers.</p>
<p><em>Less importantly. </em>Humans were an afterthought.</p>
<p>That would also… take some getting used to.</p>
<p>“They’re mostly extinct, though, right?” I asked for clarification,</p>
<p>I was hoping that Caius had been thorough enough in his efforts to wipe the Children of the Moon off the face of the earth. That I would never have to encounter one as long as I lived. Based on the paltry descriptions I’d been given, I had no desire to contend with one.</p>
<p>Fighting other vampires was one thing. But trying to rip apart and burn a huge, rabid wolf-man-monster didn’t sound easy. If <em>Caius, </em>of all people, had lost an arm in the attempt, there was no way I was going to come away from that fight alive, my newborn strength, notwithstanding.</p>
<p>“A few may still live in remote corners of the world,” Marcus disappointed me by pointing out. “But I believe they have been eradicated from all of Europe, and North America. So, you have no reason to worry about encountering one.”</p>
<p>I exhaled in relief. Then perked up again. “Anything else I should know?” I probed.</p>
<p>“Isabella… perhaps we should get back to discussing our history?” Marcus suggested, growing weary of this tangent I had taken the conversation in.</p>
<p>I bristled a little. He was right. There were things he wanted me to learn about <em>vampires</em> today. But I wasn’t quite done with this topic just yet.</p>
<p>“<em>Please</em>?” I implored him, throwing a hand over my heart and jerking my head into the slightest of bows—the easiest gesture of respect. “No one else will tell me anything,” I complained. “What if my ignorance gets me killed?!”</p>
<p>Marcus sighed. “Fine, there is one last thing,” he breathed, sounding rather tired. “Do not try to drink blood from anyone who is not a regular human. Some bloodlines of shape-shifters are poisonous.”</p>
<p>I tensed. “<em>Poisonous</em>?”</p>
<p>Marcus nodded.</p>
<p>“But how will I know?” I demanded urgently.</p>
<p>I didn’t know exactly what being <em>poisoned </em>entailed as a vampire. And I obviously wasn’t intending to consume someone I knew to be a shapeshifter. But I was worried with their almost identical appearance to regular humans most of the time, that I might make a mistake.</p>
<p>“Well, regardless of whether they are poisonous or not, the blood of shape-shifters smells disgusting,” Marcus said. “So, as long as you stay well fed, you will not want it.”</p>
<p>I remembered Alice had said the wolves smelled like wet dog. Instinctively, I wrinkled my nose. There was no way I would want to consume anything that smelled like <em>that</em>. Not unless I had no other choice.</p>
<p>“Anything else?” I pressed urgently.</p>
<p>“No, that is all.”</p>
<p>I raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? There are no other supernatural creatures out there? Just werewolves, shapeshifters and vampires?”</p>
<p>“As far as we know,” Marcus clarified. “There may be more we simply have not discovered.”</p>
<p>I pursed my lips. That wasn’t exactly a comforting thought. The idea that elves or fairies might pop out of little holes in the ground suddenly, was alarming. But I supposed uncertainty was inevitable. After all, it wasn’t like the Volturi could overturn every stone on the whole earth—though of course, they would try.</p>
<p>“So anyway… before we got talking about the Children of the Moon, you were saying… things in the supernatural world were… chaotic?” I said, trying to get us back up to speed.</p>
<p>Marcus nodded pleasantly, and tapped his finger again on a line of ink on the open leather-bound journal in front of him, before launching back into his historical account.</p>
<p>“In those early days, some four-thousand years ago, Children of the Moon ravaged the streets every month. Pitchfork-bearing mobs sprang up all too often, having to be crushed. And most vampires, in an attempt to keep enough humans alive to feed from, were nomads. But two covens—the Egyptians and the Romanians—were tired of uprooting themselves so frequently. Around the same time the Volturi was first formed, they both sought out permanent residences. And it seemed that they craved some of the same things Aro, Caius, Athenadora, Didyme and I did.”</p>
<p>“Society?” I guessed.</p>
<p>“The spoils of it, at least,” Marcus clarified. “I do not think the Romanians were ever all that concerned with the preservation of history. In fact, they destroyed a lot of it when they chased all the humans out of the castle they decided to make their permanent home.”</p>
<p>I stiffened as I pictured what Marcus was describing.</p>
<p>I imagined a coven of old, European vampires storming an old, medieval castle. They would have killed every human in their path, whether they were the armed guards in useless chain-mail armor, or the defenseless, young princesses in soft velvets and silks. Their bodies would litter the castle grounds, twisted at odd angles, broken and bleeding. And as the vampires carved an angry, crimson path through the fortress, they would, inevitably destroy most of the royal family’s valuable possessions in the process. They’d be moving too quickly and too powerfully to care if old books crumbled to dust. If furniture was broken beyond repair. Or if historical portraits were ripped to shreds.</p>
<p>I shivered, just thinking about it.</p>
<p>“It was not pretty,” Marcus said, sounding fractionally sadder than usual. “But nothing the Romanians or the Egyptians ever did in those times was. They never had much patience for the arts, or anything noteworthy humans produced. They were only interested in themselves.”</p>
<p>“Wait, the Egyptians and the Romanians?” I recognized those names from our earlier meeting as two of the suggested culprits behind the newborn army Alice saw. “What did they do?”</p>
<p>“They were… shall we say… big influencers in the world,” Marcus decided was the best term. “Like Aro, they had high ambitions, and treated everyone else as their subjects.”</p>
<p>“So, they ruled the supernatural world before the Volturi did?”</p>
<p>That seemed to be what he was implying, at least.</p>
<p>Marcus huffed. “They were hardly interested in <em>rules </em>of any kind. Only power. After establishing their own more or less permanent residence, the Egyptians posed as gods to the humans. They enjoyed the worship greatly. Every item of material wealth the old world had to offer was at their fingertips. Gold, fine silks, jewels, statues carved in their honor, palaces of white limestone. And they never needed to hunt. They would receive offerings.”</p>
<p>My eyes widened to the size of saucers.</p>
<p>The hoarding of wealth I could understand. Vampires were so beautiful, people would give them anything. Especially, if they were allowed to stand outside in the sunlight. If that was how Edward had approached me first, he could have asked me for my social security number and I would have given it to him.</p>
<p>But <em>offerings?</em></p>
<p>“People would… <em>sacrifice</em> other people to them?” I asked, vibrating with unease.</p>
<p>“Prisoners of war, slaves…” Marcus said dismissively. “As long as the Egyptians weren’t killing <em>them</em>, they were more than happy to assist. After all, they were often, handsomely rewarded for their services.”</p>
<p>My head jerked once, in grim understanding. <em>Rewarded. </em>Of course. There were people who would do anything to satisfy their material greed. Humans were… <em>awful. </em> </p>
<p>“And the Romanians?” I asked.</p>
<p>I was hoping to hear that they weren’t like that. That they were at least, a hair more civilized than the Egyptians. At least, to the point where they wouldn’t demand their human subjects drop dinner at their feet.</p>
<p>But I had no such luck.</p>
<p>“In many ways they were much worse,” Marcus said.</p>
<p>And I had to repress the powerful urge to groan.</p>
<p>
  <em>Of course, they were. </em>
</p>
<p>“They lived much like the Egyptians. Humans in their territory were aware that they were immortal, supernaturally strong and drank human blood. And despite this knowledge, the Romanians lived like royalty, abounding in ever increasing wealth. Everything they wanted came to them. Riches, prey, diplomats, those seeking their favor. They may not have posed as gods, the way the Egyptians did. But they were close enough—everyone wanted to appease them in whatever way they could. And they certainly thought it of themselves. They sat still for<em> centuries</em>, contemplating their own divinity.”</p>
<p>Marcus shook his head ruefully.</p>
<p>“Why, some of the senior members of the coven even began to petrify, they were sitting still for so long.”</p>
<p>I gasped. “<em>Petrify</em>?”</p>
<p>
  <em>What, like a tree?</em>
</p>
<p>Marcus nodded. “Yes, it is an unfortunate thing that can happen to our skin if we do not move enough,” he explained. “It creeps up on me from time to time.”</p>
<p>I felt a wave of horror wash through me. “Is it reversible?”</p>
<p>“Oh yes,” Marcus said quickly, and automatically I felt relieved. “A little exercise every few days is enough to keep it at bay. But when there is no commotion—no newborns to teach, no rules being broken, no new books to read, sometimes I am guilty of sitting quite still. And I do not realize I am beginning to petrify until it starts to impair my vision.”</p>
<p>My eyebrows shot up. “Impair your vision?”</p>
<p>“I start to accumulate a thin, film of venom over my body,” Marcus explained. “If it gets bad enough, my joints become stiff, and my eyes cloud over. One time I went completely blind because of it. But of course, I can see perfectly fine now.”</p>
<p>He gestured to his eyes, bright crimson and cloudless.</p>
<p>I swallowed. That sounded uncomfortable.</p>
<p>“How do you fix it?”</p>
<p>“A good sprint usually does the trick. Though it can be painful at first, if my joints have petrified too much. And it is a bit frightening when you cannot see.”</p>
<p>I nodded. It would be hard to run as fast as you could when you were suddenly, totally blind. Smacking a brick wall at the speeds a vampire could attain may not kill me anymore… but I couldn’t imagine it would feel very good either. </p>
<p>“Do you think…?”</p>
<p>Marcus cut me off before I could finish. “You are unlikely to suffer from it. I’m sure Aro will keep you very busy.”</p>
<p>“Right.” I looked quickly down at my feet, then my eyes shot back up at Marcus. “Anyway, you were saying, about the Romanians…?”</p>
<p>“Ah yes,” Marcus sighed, getting back on topic. “The Romanians were, to Aro, a <em>disease</em>. They corrupted everything within reach, twisting the worst of human greed to serve as their own vile amusements. Not just manipulating humans into offering others of their kind as prey. But making them kill their loved ones for late night entertainment.”</p>
<p>I gasped in horror. <em>They would do that?</em></p>
<p>“The Romanians were <em>deranged,</em>” Marcus emphasized. “They enjoyed torturing humans psychologically. But also physically. If the humans refused to play their mind-games, they’d pluck out their eyes. Saw off their limbs. Force them to drink hot wax. Drive nails into their toes. Tear out their fingernails… All sorts of cruel things. All because the Romanians thought it was <em>fun.</em>”</p>
<p>I shuddered at Marcus’ graphic descriptions. <em>How disgusting. </em></p>
<p>“Naturally, this kind of treatment earned the Romanians a lot of enemies,” Marcus went on. “But every time the humans rose up to challenge them, they would slaughter all except a handful, which they would leave alive to spread the word. So, they quickly gained a fearsome reputation that even the bravest humans were unwilling to challenge for several centuries. And during that time, they prospered, growing their numbers, and continuing to live decadently in sordid, squandered wealth.”</p>
<p>Marcus wrinkled his nose with distaste. And I couldn’t help but agree. A group of vampires living like that repulsed me just as much as it repulsed him. </p>
<p>“So, what happened?” I begged to know. “What changed?”</p>
<p>I was assuming <em>something </em>must have, since I wasn’t getting my fingernails ripped out right now.</p>
<p>“Eventually, Aro could not stand it,” Marcus revealed. “He’d been amassing his own power from the very beginning, collecting those whose talents he thought he could use to build an empire. But it took him over fifteen-hundred years to finally have a coven of a large enough size, and with talents formidable enough to take on a coven of the Romanian’s size.”</p>
<p>“How many Romanians were there?” I asked.</p>
<p>“Forty-five or so, not including their human pets.”</p>
<p>I stiffened. “<em>Pets</em>?”</p>
<p>“I told you they were deranged, did I not?” Marcus said, fractionally raising a dark eyebrow.</p>
<p>I nervously scratched my head. “Sure but…”</p>
<p>“I would have never imagined either, had I not witnessed for myself,” Marcus assured me.</p>
<p>“So, after two-thousand years of waiting, Aro just… what… <em>attacked</em> the Romanians?” I asked.</p>
<p>“It was more of a prolonged conflict than a single battle,” Marcus corrected. “He had their castle burned down first, which killed a few of them. But most scattered after that, and had to be hunted down, individually. Though, thanks to Demetri’s gift, we did eventually get them all, some centuries later.”</p>
<p>“Well, all besides Vladimir and Stefan,” Marcus suddenly added. “Jane and Alec killed most of the rest of their coven after Demetri located them. But Aro thought we should keep those two alive to spread the word. A cruel irony, if you will.”</p>
<p>I smiled wryly. <em>Irony, indeed.</em></p>
<p>“And the Egyptians?”</p>
<p>“We went after them a hundred years after the siege on the Romanians,” Marcus explained. “We were more prepared that time, and managed to keep most of the coven from escaping before we burned down their palaces with them inside. Though again, Aro chose to let two out of the thirty-six vampires—Amun and his mate Kebi—survive.”  </p>
<p>I sucked in a large breath of air. “So, some of both covens are still around?”</p>
<p>“A <em>tiny </em>number, compared to their original sizes,” Marcus emphasized. “The Egyptians have grown back somewhat after striking a truce with us. Another mated pair lives with Amun now. And Amun and his own mate have children, and grandchildren.”</p>
<p>I tried not to let that last bit of information shock me. Aro had shared that piece of information before. But it was still a little hard to believe. <em>Vampire-born grandchildren? </em></p>
<p>“But the Romanians have remained at two for fifteen-hundred years,” Marcus pointed out. “They have done nothing to try to increase their power since. Though, I suspect they know that if they ever tried without consulting us first, we would crush them again.”</p>
<p>I nodded. That sounded like something Aro would do. At least, the side of him that was more ancient emperor than modern diplomatic leader.</p>
<p>“So, with the Romanians and Egyptians gone, what did you do next?” I asked, deadly curious.</p>
<p>“After our victories, we began enforcing our laws,” Marcus explained. “It was not easy at first to promote the idea that secrecy from humankind was for our own good. It is hardly <em>convenient </em>to conceal ourselves from our prey. And most found the idea insulting at first. Bowing to the whims of our <em>food.</em>”</p>
<p>I grimaced. I could see how that wouldn’t go over well.</p>
<p>“But Aro can be quite persuasive when he wants to be,” Marcus went on. “He promised life would be more comfortable for everyone this way—less human mobs, less inter-territory disputes, and so on. And those who disagreed did not live long to complain about it.”</p>
<p>I shuddered. <em>How harsh. </em></p>
<p>But then again, I wasn’t sure if I could judge. If Aro <em>hadn’t </em>killed all those people back then, the world might still have been overrun with unsecretive supernatural creatures. The Egyptians would still be worshipped, and sacrificed to. The Romanians would still torture people willy-nilly. Other groups like them might have risen up, too. And human happiness and advancement would be crippled by it.</p>
<p>So crippled, in fact, that the world might look something like what Alice was predicting would happen if we did not win this upcoming fight with the newborn army. An endless landscape of death and destruction.</p>
<p>So really, the Volturi had simply made the same choice I was making—the choice to kill a few to preserve the lives of many. And it would be hypocritical of me to criticize them for it.   </p>
<p>“So, by the end of the new millennia, Aro had established the Volturi as the seat of authority in the supernatural world,” Marcus finished.</p>
<p>I blinked, looking down at the journal on the writing desk. “Just six years ago?’</p>
<p>“No, not in the year <em>two-thousand</em>,” Marcus said, tapping the page in front of him insistently. I peered down at the date as he did so, and realized my mistake. “Sorry, I sometimes forget it has been that long,” he apologized. “A thousand years before that…”</p>
<p>“Oh.” My eyes flicked over a few key dates in the journal again.</p>
<p>
  <em>2500 BC – Amun, Kebi, and others formed the Egyptian Coven </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1400BC – 1200BC – The Volturi family was formed.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1150BC – Aro romanced Sulpicia as a human, and had her changed into his mate.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1100BC – Chelsea a.k.a. Charmion became the first member of the Volturi guard. Marcus and Didyme began travelling the world together, only occasionally returning to Volterra. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1100 – 1000BC – Corin and several other vampires joined the Volturi guard.      </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1000 BC – Vladimir, Stefan, and others formed a coven in current Romania. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>500 AD – The Volturi laid siege on the Romanians. The Voturi began enforcing their laws.             </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>600 AD – The Volturi laid siege on the Egyptian coven.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>800 AD – Alec and Jane joined the Volturi guard.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1000 AD – Demetri joined the Volturi guard, hunted down the survivors from the previous wars. Two from each were left alive to spread the word. The Volturi gained undisputed, world-power. </em>
</p>
<p>When I was finished memorizing the dates—and that didn’t take long, one look, and they were forever imprinted in my mind—I looked back up into Marcus’ vibrant crimson eyes. Eyes that clashed interestingly with his dusky, dark skin, and long, wavy black hair. </p>
<p>“So, you guys have been in power for a thousand years?” I asked.</p>
<p>“<em>Undisputed</em> power for a thousand years,” Marcus stressed. “And a bit shakier, but still world-wide power, for another five hundred before that.”</p>
<p>I blinked rapidly. “Wow. That’s…”</p>
<p>“A long time, yes,” Marcus finished for me. “I can see how it would seem that way to you. But I am twice as old as this organization. So, it hardly seems that long to me.”</p>
<p>I gawked. Then wondered, <em>would I live long enough to feel the same way?</em></p>
<p>I wasn’t sure. But I was starting to doubt it.</p>
<p>“So… why tell me all this?” I asked, sensing Marcus was more or less finished with his tale. At least for the day.</p>
<p>“Because it is imperative that you understand where we came from in order to understand where we are going,” Marcus explained. “If Alec is right, and the Romanians are behind the upcoming newborn battle, or if it is the Egyptians, as another proposed, then it is best you understand <em>why </em>they have this vendetta against us, is it not? After all, we cannot afford to have you side with them.”</p>
<p>I shook my head emphatically. “I would never…”</p>
<p>Marcus raised a dark eyebrow. “Now that you understand, of course not. But if you had met either of them, not knowing their history, could you honestly promise you would not be taken in by their lies? I believe you were taken in by the Cullens’ lies quite effectively for some time…”</p>
<p>Marcus let the assumption hang in the air between us. And I clenched my fists at my side in frustration. He was right. I couldn’t promise that. If the Romanians or Egyptians had seemed sincere enough—and I was a <em>terrible </em>lie detector—then, I would have bought whatever they told me. No matter whether or not it was total and utter bullshit.</p>
<p>“Is that all?” I asked, looking, embarrassed, at the floor.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Marcus said. “I will teach you more another time. It seems Caius has come to collect you for the next portion of your training today.”</p>
<p>My head shot up at that. <em>Caius?</em></p>
<p>I gulped. Well, this was going to be… interesting.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>As it so happened, Caius was waiting for me outside of the little room. He looked a little less contemptuous than usual—which is to say, only marginally pissed off. But more shocking than his unusual lack of anger, was his attire.</p>
<p>His lean frame was cased from wrist to ankle in tight, black fighting clothes made of a strange material that smelled synthetic. And his two bodyguards, flanking his sides, were clad entirely in the same thing. Something black and sturdy but stretchy too, mostly skin-tight, except for a few thicker patches around the neck and chest.</p>
<p>I wasn’t sure if it was Kevlar or imitation leather or some other, hybrid synthetic fabric. Whatever it was, it looked particularly well-suited for heavy combat. Especially paired with long, powerful-looking lace-up boots. Of course, the black cloaks the three had thrown over them were a little less suited. And the delicate, silvery pendants gleaming around their necks seemed even less so. But still.</p>
<p>“Isabella,” Caius said in a low, cold voice.</p>
<p>I jolted at the sound of my own name. Not because it was my full name—I had sort of accepted the idea that the Volturi were going to be calling me that from now on, even if it wasn’t my favorite. But because it was my name at all, and not “the girl”.</p>
<p>I guessed we were both the same species now, so whenever Caius spoke to me directly, I got the honor of a name. But it was still strange, coming from his chalk-white lips. I didn’t think, even after a thousand years, I would ever get used to it. </p>
<p>“Come with me,” Caius commanded, beckoning me with a slender finger.</p>
<p>Without any further introduction, he swiftly strode towards the end of the hallway. His powerful legs carried him rapidly over the stone floors. His bodyguards kept up, always hovering a few inches behind him like solid shadows. And I quickly matched their pace in order not to be left in the dust.</p>
<p>I had absolutely no clue where we were going. So, I simply followed his lead, reaching the end of the hallway, and descending several flights of spiral stairs. And hoped that we weren’t going anywhere bad.</p>
<p>Maybe one of these days, I’d ask Aro for a map. I wouldn’t need it for long—just a glance and I would have the entire layout of this labyrinth memorized. But without it, I was hopelessly lost. Everything in this fortress, thanks to the cinnamon brown brick everywhere, looked the same.</p>
<p>I started making plans to ask Aro about it, the next time I saw him, when we stepped off the staircase at the lowest level of the fortress. Directly in front of the last steps were a pair of heavy double doors. They looked like the gilded ones leading into the conference room, only they were not covered in gold, but intricate wooden carvings, and two large cast iron rings that served as door handles.</p>
<p>Caius grabbed both rings, and dramatically swung the doors wide open. The doors creaked with age, as they moved.</p>
<p>The room which Caius’ theatric motion revealed was immense. Probably a whole football-field across. And just as high, if not higher than the tall ceiling in the turret room. Though here, there were no thin window slits cut into the wall, to throw rectangular patches of sunlight onto the floor. Instead a hundred, small, industrial lights were spaced evenly across the stone ceiling, producing a dim illumination that would have been difficult for humans to see in, but was perfect for us.   </p>
<p>But more than the size, I was surprised to notice that every available surface besides the ceiling filled with lights, was covered in several-feet-thick, red plastic mats. Mats like the ones covering the wrestling room back at Forks High, only much thicker and more durable looking.</p>
<p>I squinted at the plastic coating everything. It seemed like an odd thing for the Volturi to have. And it almost made the room look like the inside of a bouncy castle. But, as I surveyed the room, I quickly learned why.</p>
<p>Volturi guard members were spread out on the padded floor, situated in pairs around the room. Each pair was locked in ardent one-on-one combat. Combat that mostly involved lunging, with snapping teeth, for their opponent’s neck. But which also had them throwing punches and kicks. And tossing each other bodily against the floors and walls with such force it was certain to cause severe damage (both to the building and the guards) without the padding in place.</p>
<p>As it was, the shock-absorption was far from complete. I still felt tremors when my booted feet hit the mat as I followed Caius into the room. But I had the sense, given the violence I saw all around me, that the fortress walls and floors would crumble to pieces without the plastic mats in place. So, though they looked odd, I felt extremely grateful for their presence.  </p>
<p>Still, I couldn’t help but wonder, as the plastic squeaked under my feet, who made these things? Did the Volturi have some private contractor they employed to make their fighting clothes, shock-absorbing mats, and maybe some other things too, like the diamond soap, and Titania and Lucretia’s lead, block toys? Or did the Volturi make all these things themselves?</p>
<p>Alice had said something earlier about her and Aro crafting the soap. Which leant itself to my second theory. But it was entirely possible that she simply meant they had come up with the formula, and sent it off to someone else to produce. She hadn’t really gotten very specific about the process.</p>
<p>While I tried to parse it out, reviewing a thousand possibilities in my mind, Aro—who had been observing the fights from one of the far corners of the immense room—floated to my side, and began asking inane questions about my lesson with Marcus.</p>
<p>I tried to give him minimal responses, so I could focus the rest of my brain on thinking about the production of vampire-specific materials. But as he tagged alongside Caius and I, listening raptly to my short, three- or four-word answers about the Egyptians and the Romanians, I noticed something that gave me pause.</p>
<p>My new vampire brain was an impressive thing, really. It was so… <em>big</em>. I could compartmentalize things, and multitask with ease. So, I could keep up with Aro’s questions, and focus on my footing so I wouldn’t trip over the flat ground, and pay attention to my surroundings, and think about how the Volturi made the red mats beneath my feet, all at the same time. It was like I had several internet tabs open in my brain. And instead of flicking between them, I could access them all at once.</p>
<p>I marveled at my newfound brainpower for a minute. I’d thought all of my discoveries were over.</p>
<p>Then—while I gave Aro a longer answer to one of his questions about my lesson with Marcus, finding it surprisingly easy, even with everything else I was doing—I gave up trying to figure out how the Volturi made their shock-absorbing mats. I would never know unless I asked, anyway. And so, I focused the portion of my brain that I’d reserved for that on observing my surroundings a little more closely.</p>
<p>Caius marched in front of me, flanked by his bodyguards. And Aro hovered just inches from my side. But as I surveyed the room, I noticed that Aro’s twin daughters, Lucretia and Titania, and Marcus, Sulpicia, and Athenodora, were nowhere to be found.</p>
<p>I guessed the rest of the Volturi family didn’t fight.</p>
<p>But every member of the Volturi guard was here, dressed in the same, strange fighting clothes as Caius, and lunging furiously for their battle-partner's throats. Trying to seize them with their hard, pale fingers. Or rip into them directly with their razor-sharp teeth.</p>
<p>I watched with a mix of fascination and horror as Jane took on Chelsea. The taller, light-brown-haired woman strained not to collapse under the intense agony of Jane's stare. But, though Chelsea was still able to stand and throw punches, despite the pain, Jane deftly dodged all of her labored, ill-aimed attacks.</p>
<p>Corin, beside them, took on Demetri. And I was surprised to find the pair rather evenly matched. I hadn't expected the small, dark-haired woman to be much of a match for the tall tracker. But what she lacked in size and force, she more than made up for with agility and speed. Any time it seemed Demetri had his hands around her for sure, his fingers clenched around nothing but the air. And Corin was already behind him, having twisted out of the way.</p>
<p>Alec stood off to the left of both pairs with angry concentration etched into his young features. His boyish hands stood outstretched. And a thick, black gas oozed out of them, in chase of Makenna.</p>
<p>I watched with fascination as the dark miasma snaked across the floor towards Renata’s great-grand-niece. <em>So, <strong>this</strong> was the sensory depriving mist he’d mentioned before.</em></p>
<p>I’d never seen anything like it. And I shivered as I watched it move. It looked deadly—like toxic smoke, or oily ectoplasm. And it had a slightly sweet, strangely numbing scent—like chloroform. So, I didn’t want to imagine what it might feel like touching me.</p>
<p>Though, frightening as it was, Alec’s mist did appear to have one big weakness. It creeped slowly along the floor. And this made it easy to avoid. The moment it looked like it was about to coil around Makenna’s legs, or pour over her head, she would dodge, almost effortlessly, out of the way.  </p>
<p>I watched Makenna dodge a few more times—apparently not interested in trying to land any hits herself, only in avoiding Alec’s mist—before my eyes flicked to a new pair of fighters. A few yards behind them, two female vampires were performing some serious gymnastics. I saw one cartwheel away when the other tried to seize her neck with powerful fingers. Then, when the first retaliated, I saw the other back-flip out of the way, just before her opponent’s gnashing teeth closed around her.</p>
<p>Their flexible movements were performed in a way that I had only ever seen approximated in spy-movies. Initially, I was unsure who they were, because they wore tight black fighting pants and their hair was tied up to keep it out of the way, when I was used to seeing them in skirts with their hair down.</p>
<p>But I eventually recognized the pair as Heidi and Vera.</p>
<p>Once I knew who they were, I was even more surprised by the athleticism and viciousness of their combat. Because with all her allure, I hadn't really pegged Heidi for a fighter. And Vera was an irreplaceable asset to Aro, which I had assumed meant he wouldn't want her on the front lines.</p>
<p>
  <em>Perhaps she acted like a military medic? Perhaps she fought when necessary, but her presence on the battlefield was mostly for the purpose of helping others?</em>
</p>
<p>I mulled it over. But just when I decided I couldn’t really judge the wisdom of Aro's tactics without additional information, another of the skirmishes occurring throughout the room caught my attention.</p>
<p>On the other side of the room I saw Alice, fighting with Felix.</p>
<p>Felix was… <em>losing. </em>Which was surprising. He was so huge and muscular I would have thought someone as tiny as Alice would have been all too easy for him to defeat. And Alice wasn’t exactly making it hard—she stood motionless, smiling to herself, with her eyes closed.</p>
<p>At least… that’s what I had first thought. But when I looked more closely, I realized she <em>was </em>moving. Just not very far.</p>
<p>Whenever Felix lunged for her, she would take a small step or two forward, or back, left or right. Just enough to put her out of his path. So that Felix’s hulking body would fly through the empty air she had once occupied.</p>
<p>If I hadn’t seen Felix’s teeth, glistening with venom, I might have thought she was doing a little dance—one step to the left, another back, two steps forward, two to the right, and so on. She looked so tranquil it was hard to remember Felix was trying to kill her.</p>
<p>Though his snarl of frustration as his grasping hands whistled past where her waist had been for the fifteenth time, was a good reminder. It made my alien skin prickle with misgiving.</p>
<p>Felix, realizing that lunging wasn’t going to work out, got closer. But Alice didn’t open her eyes, and only began to move faster. If her earlier movements had been dancing—this was the tango. She was spiraling and twisting, curling in on herself. And Felix was her unwitting partner, reaching through her graceful patterns, but never touching her, like every movement was choreographed.</p>
<p>They fought like this a while longer. I was impressed that my new eyes could keep up with their movements. I was certain, had I been still human, I would have only seen two dark blurs.</p>
<p>Then Alice <em>giggled</em>. The sound was beautiful, like the trilling of a flute mixed with the sound of carbonated bubbles fizzing over soda. But it was also strangely menacing. Probably because, knowing her, it must have meant she’d seen something in the future.</p>
<p>A moment later, I learned why she was laughing. Felix reached viciously for her midsection for what had to be the thirtieth time. But this time, instead of dodging out of the way, Alice hoisted her leg over him at the precise fraction of a second when he ducked to grab her. Then she pressed her foot into his shoulder. And used it to push the rest of her up, while forcing him down.   </p>
<p>There was a dull <em>thud</em> as Felix’ huge body went crashing down onto the mat. And miraculously, the padding beneath absorbed almost all of the impact’s shockwave. But even more surprisingly, it seemed Felix was now trapped beneath the heels of Alice’s boots.  </p>
<p>She had one pressed into his neck, and the other planted firmly on his back. Felix struggled avidly for a bit to try to escape. But as he wiggled vainly about, bucking and cursing under his breath in Italian, the boots over him didn't move in the slightest.</p>
<p>It stunned me that Alice—such a slender woman—had been able to put so much power into her legs. Because if Felix couldn't shake it, then it must have been <em>very </em>strong.</p>
<p>I stood ramrod-still in shock at Alice’s strength. And I didn’t breathe as I watched Felix pitifully try to wriggle his hands free in order to defend himself. Then, suddenly, Alice dipped her head, poising her teeth over his neck. And I gasped in horror.</p>
<p>She was going to kill him!</p>
<p>Felix seemed to realize this about the same time I did. Then, somewhat reluctantly, he cried out: "<em>Pieta!" </em></p>
<p>I cringed and steeled myself for the worst, expecting his cry to be for naught. But I was surprised as this one simple word seemed to freeze Alice’s movements immediately. She smiled smugly, and pulled back before taking her boot off his neck, and stepping down onto the mat at his side.</p>
<p>Felix cursed in Italian. But as he slowly sat up, it was clear that his anger was self-directed. That he was more upset that he had lost, than at Alice for nearly biting his head off.</p>
<p>And it was in that moment that I realized—feeling rather stupid for not thinking of this earlier—that the pairs must not actually be fighting to the death. Rather, they must be fighting only until the other conceded defeat. Which most wouldn’t do, except until moments before they were about to be brutally torn apart.</p>
<p>Defensively, I curled my fingers around my neck. I knew getting ripped up wouldn't kill vampires. Only fire could deal the final blow. And thankfully, nothing of the sort could be found anywhere in the room. But I imagined it was still incredibly painful to have one's head forcibly removed from their body.</p>
<p>Noticing my look of horrified shock, Aro soothingly rubbed my arm. And I nearly jumped out of my skin. I’d almost completely forgotten he was there. So intense was my concentration on Alice and Felix’s fight.</p>
<p>But his caressing fingers glided gently over the frilly sleeve of my Alice-approved shirt, calming me. And my brain processed the lack of immediate danger a lot faster now. So, I was able to keep myself from flinching away from him, and even managed to school my expression into one of deferential curiosity before Aro turned to me, dropped his hand, and smiled.</p>
<p>"Shall we begin, Isabella?" he asked, gesturing towards the middle of the combat room.</p>
<p>Finding myself speechless in shock, I blinked once; twice. I found it hard to believe that he would throw me into the middle of intense combat with absolutely no training. Sink-or-swim teaching wasn't really his style. Or at least it hadn’t been, up to this point.</p>
<p>Our entire interaction in the turret room four days ago had consisted of him giving me all the information I needed to make the best, most informed decision. And everything I needed to be fully prepared to deal with the consequences of my choice. Even when it had come to the act of feeding—a concept which was completely <em>impossible</em> to practice beforehand—he had still given me the best preparation he could.</p>
<p>
  <em>But now he’s switching tactics? </em>
</p>
<p>I gaped at him stupidly, like a fish for a moment. And during that time, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chelsea crumpling to the floor under the severe, unblinking gaze of Jane. She too cried out “<em>Pieta”</em> to halt her attacker's movements. And remarkably, the cruel little blonde froze immediately, before cracking a wicked smile and sauntering off triumphantly toward the back wall.</p>
<p>There were two or three cloaked bodies back there, I suddenly realized. Alice stood at the front—the first to win her fight. And the others must be the other victors, I rationalized, as Jane went to go stand with them.</p>
<p>But before I could get a good look at their faces, some curt words from Caius, standing ahead of Aro and I, flanked by his two Asian bodyguards, pulled my attention sharply back to my new masters.</p>
<p>"Yes, let us get started,” Caius said.</p>
<p>I felt a surge of fear.</p>
<p>
  <em>Fight? Now? Without any training? </em>
</p>
<p>“But I don’t have any idea how to fight!” I protested frantically, my fear making me forget everything Aro had taught me about my manners. About not questioning their commands. “…Shouldn’t I at least learn some moves first?”</p>
<p>I balled my hands into loose fists and made little punching motions in the air to show how juvenile and pathetic my combat technique was at this point. But Caius only narrowed his eyes.</p>
<p>“Today, I would like to see how you naturally fight,” he explained as though it should be obvious.</p>
<p>I frowned and let my hands fall to my sides. I failed to see how putting my uncontrollable strength and complete unfamiliarity with fighting to the test would help anyone. Especially him.</p>
<p>But I wasn’t about to argue with him. Aro had impressed upon me earlier that it wasn’t good manners to object. And even if the matter was up for debate, that wasn’t an argument I was likely to win.</p>
<p>“During later sessions of course, I will provide more guided instruction,” Caius informed me, after Aro gave him a look, pleading for compassion on my behalf. “But for now, I simply want you to follow your instincts. The guard needs more training fighting against unpracticed newborns such as yourself, after all. Since Alice has predicted those will be our enemies.”</p>
<p>I nodded. Then sent an appreciative look toward Aro for making Caius explain. That made sense.</p>
<p>“First, however," Caius said, “You need to understand the rules."</p>
<p>"Rules?"</p>
<p>I turned suddenly to look at all the one-on-one skirmishes occurring around me again, trying to find any evidence of restraint. But as I watched, I found it hard to believe there <em>were </em>any rules. Everything was so… <em>lawless.</em>  </p>
<p>The fighting-gear-clad pairs lunged savagely for each other, like lions trying to tear each other apart with their teeth or claws. Bodies hit the floor with incredible force, shaking the plastic beneath my feet. Hard hands groped for appendages they could tear from their sockets. Jaws snapped shut just millimeters away from vulnerable skin. And animalistic growls punctuated the air.</p>
<p>I turned back to Caius, wearing a skeptical expression. Because as far as I could tell, the only rule was to try your hardest to murder your opponent before they murdered you.</p>
<p>"As Felix and Alice demonstrated, we do not fight to the death. Only until one concedes defeat," Caius explained.</p>
<p>I nodded. "I gathered as much. But what's with yelling pay-tuh… er… pee-yay-tuh?" I enquired, struggling to wrap my mouth around the foreign word.</p>
<p>"<em>Pieta,</em>" Caius corrected, each syllable flowing with flawless ease.</p>
<p>"<em>Pieta</em> roughly translates to 'mercy' in English," Aro contributed, for which I would be sure to thank him profusely for later. I hadn’t had any Italian lessons from Heidi yet, so I had been wondering what that was about. And now it all made sense.  </p>
<p>"Oh, so you cry 'mercy' when you're about to die, and your opponent just stops?" I simplified aloud, just to be certain I fully grasped the concept.</p>
<p>Aro nodded and grinned. "Although, <em>die</em> is a bit drastic, I think," he countered after a thoughtful moment, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder again. "Having your head removed from your body will not kill you, so you need not fear that itself," he clarified. "But it is rather incapacitating," he warned. "So, I would advise not allowing it to happen to you in the midst of combat with an actual enemy."</p>
<p>My head bobbed vigorously. That made sense. I imagined, once you lost your head, barring exceptional circumstances, you were done for.</p>
<p>"Okay, but other than that, there aren't really any rules, right? I mean, it looks like all powers are fair game," I noted.</p>
<p>I looked toward Alec and Makenna, who were still at an impasse. Makenna kept barely escaping the reach of his sensory depriving cloud. And, as I watched a bit closer, I realized she was also using her power of deflection to keep him from grabbing her and rooting her in place so his gift could catch up. Every time Alec tried to kick her, or swipe at her, his hand or foot would suddenly hesitate at the last minute. And it was starting to make him visibly angry.</p>
<p>"Of course. Learning to use our gifts offensively is <em>vital</em>," Aro said, also watching the pair with marked interest. "However, there is one final rule. More of a procedural one. Which is that we typically spar in rounds."</p>
<p>Aro pointed towards the far wall where Alice, Jane, Vera, Renata, and a few other guards stood resolutely in a victorious line. I recognized the small Japanese woman—Yuki—as one of the Volturi’s lower-ranking guards. Kadir, the middle-eastern man, also from the fourth row of our induction line-up, stood next to her. And one of Marcus’ African bodyguards—either Kofe or Wambua, since I hadn’t figured out which was which—stood at the very end of the line.  </p>
<p>"Once the victors of this round have all lined up on that wall, they pair off to fight one another, and those who conceded defeat pair amongst themselves," Aro explained.</p>
<p>He pointed to another, much less organized line, on the other side of the room. Everyone stood, huddled awkwardly together, with downcast eyes. Like they were deeply ashamed of having to stand in the loser line, rather than the victor line opposite them.</p>
<p>Felix, of course, stood first in line, his fists clenched tightly at his sides in self-directed frustration. The others were in less clear of an order. But I recognized Petra from her unusual freckles, standing timidly near the back. And next to two dark-skinned vampires—one of which must be the other of Marcus’ bodyguards, and the other Xavier—Afton was doing his very best to be invisible.</p>
<p>It wasn’t very effective. I could see him just fine. Better than Aro could. There was no transparent silhouette with little artefacts of light bending around it. Instead, he was totally solid, and opaque, just like everyone else.</p>
<p>But maybe his powers didn’t work on me? Hell, if I knew.    </p>
<p>“Eventually,” Aro went on, “the idea is to find a sparring partner with whom you are rather evenly matched."</p>
<p>"That makes sense," I conceded. "So now what?"</p>
<p>Just after I asked the question, Demetri finally subdued Corin. She screamed "<em>pieta!" </em>just nanoseconds before Demetri’s vicious teeth would have sank into her neck. And, looking around, I realized that left Alec and Makenna as the only unfinished pair on the floor.</p>
<p>"Alec, Makenna," Caius barked suddenly. He whipped around to face the pair.</p>
<p>They obediently froze mid-fight. And looked towards their master, dutifully awaiting his orders.</p>
<p>"That’s enough. Call it a draw."</p>
<p>The duo looked very much like they did <em>not</em> want to call it a draw. Like they wanted instead to persist in battling one another so they could determine a true victor. But after sending each other fleeting disparaging glances, they complied.</p>
<p>It took a few moments for Alec's sluggish black gas to seep completely back into the skin of his hands. And I wondered, as it trailed lazily around the room in oozing, snake-like ropes, why it was so slow. Most other vampire gifts worked instantaneously. So, what made his different?</p>
<p>I fervidly hoped that he wasn't running out of energy. I knew all too well what vampires had to do when they used their powers too much.</p>
<p>But while I worried for his health, Caius directed his piercing gaze towards the fourth person standing in the victor's line. And his icy voice silenced my anxious thoughts.</p>
<p>“Renata, challenge Isabella.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Warnings: mentions of slavery, brief descriptions of torture, siege warfare tactics, limb loss, mutilation, mass murder, and a general disrespect for human life. Please let me know if I forgot anything or if I need to update my tags!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry this chapter is a little late! It took longer than I thought to do the final edits! Hope you all are staying safe and staying indoors!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>CHAPTER FOUR: TRAINING</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>
  <em>The two most important things you’ll need to remember are,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>First, don’t let them get their arms around you,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And second, don’t go for the obvious kill,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>That’s all they’ll be prepared for. </em>
</p>
<p>- Jasper, Eclipse, Chapter 18</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>Those next few seconds after Caius gave the order dragged on for what felt like an eternity. It wasn’t that everything was happening slowly—no, in fact, everything was happening much too fast.</p>
<p>But my sensory capabilities were so much better now—a thousand times better than they’d been in those moments just before I’d nearly been crushed by Tyler’s van. And I was trying to focus on everything at once, to decide how I was going to survive. So, thanks to a super-powered brain kicked into overdrive by the direness of my current situation, time seemed to drag.</p>
<p>I saw Aro out of the corner of my eye. He’d floated a safe distance away, as soon as Caius gave the order. And was watching me, with wide, curious eyes.</p>
<p>Just ahead of me stood Caius, his face impassive. I couldn’t tell if he was interested in the upcoming fight or not.</p>
<p>But his two bodyguards had left his side, and had chosen Alec and Makenna—the only two vampires’ whose match had ended in a draw—to be their partners for this round. So, I guessed he had decided this room was safe enough.  </p>
<p>Behind them, everyone in both the victor’s line and the loser’s line began breaking off in pairs, and spreading out around the room. They seemed to automatically know, without being instructed, who to challenge next. Something, I guessed must come from centuries of practice.</p>
<p>But as the cloaked figures zipped away from the plastic-padded walls they’d been lined up against, one short woman with long waves of black hair, and a roman nose remained. She gave Caius the tiniest of bows. Then she began marching directly toward me, her eyes full of murderous intent.</p>
<p>I swallowed.   </p>
<p>
  <em>This was it. </em>
</p>
<p>I wasn’t at all dressed for battle. Under my new cloak and Volturi necklace, I was still wearing the frilly white shirt, tight black jeans, and short, flat boots Alice had provided for my induction this morning. And as I’d told Caius before, I had exactly zero fighting experience. So rather than attacking, I waited for her to come to me. </p>
<p>She marched across the plastic mats slowly, but deliberately—the pace of the invincible. By the time she had halved the gap between us, everyone else was well into the middle of their respective fights. But I wasn’t about to rush her. If she wanted to take her time, that was fine by me. It gave me more time to think.</p>
<p>
  <em>Should I go directly for her neck? Or will she be expecting that? Maybe I should try to grab her around the middle?</em>
</p>
<p>I reviewed a hundred different strategies in my mind. But I had no experience to point me in the right direction. No idea which strategies would work. And which would result in spectacular failure.</p>
<p><em>And what about her powers? </em>I wondered, when I’d exhausted all my options for strike points, and come to the end of my paltry knowledge of fighting moves. <em>She said she can plant thoughts in the minds of others who are charging, and send them confused, in another direction. But will that even work on me?</em></p>
<p>I reached out mentally, feeling for the thin, silky edges of my mind-shield wrapped tightly around my brain, while Renata stalked closer. I found them easily—much more easily than when I had been human. That had been like groping in the dark for a blanket. But finding my shield now was as easy as finding any other part of my body. And I could have moved it just as easily too.</p>
<p>But that wasn’t what I wanted.</p>
<p>Instead, as Renata made her way closer, wearing the same strange, stretchy fighting clothes as everyone else, I tried to focus on reinforcing my shield. On making it clamp down tighter on my brain, so there weren’t any leaks. No gaps at all that might let in Renata’s defensive suggestions.</p>
<p>The shimmering red fabric in my mind’s eye pulsed, then squeezed my brain tighter like I wanted it to. But I wasn’t sure that was going to help any. I still didn’t fully understand why I was immune to some powers—like Edward’s, Carlisle’s Aro’s, and Jane’s—but not to Alice’s or Jasper’s. So, I felt like there was a fifty-fifty chance that I might <em>not </em>be immune to Renata’s gift.</p>
<p>I hunkered into a crouch—the only fighting stance I knew—just in case. And sucked in a deep, unnecessary breath.</p>
<p>Alice was right, breathing, <em>was </em>helpful. I might not need it. But the air carried so many useful smells—the various, sunshine and sugar scents of the guard, the ancient dust piling on the sils of the high window slits, the chalky smell of stone, the chemical scent of plastic and synthetic fabrics, the wooly smell of roughly twenty cloaks, and the leathery aroma of forty boots…</p>
<p>I could smell <em>everything </em>around me. And that hyper-awareness of my surroundings was exactly what I needed in order to be prepared for Renata’s attack.</p>
<p>I <em>heard </em>her first. Her boots set down on the squeaky plastic mats differently than before, prepping to jump.</p>
<p>Then I <em>smelled </em>her next. Her movements sent a current of air mingled with her scent toward me. She had the same floral, sweet bright smell all vampires had mixed with her unique undertones of vanilla and leather.</p>
<p>And finally, I <em>saw</em> her push off the ground with both feet, and fly up into the air.   </p>
<p>She looked positively radiant, sailing through the room. Her dark hair fanned out behind her just right. And her cloak billowed, like a great black butterfly spreading its wings. And I might have only been able to stare stupidly at her in shock, had I been human. But my mind worked quicker too, filing away the crystal-clear memory for later. And focused on preparing for when she landed.</p>
<p>Renata was headed straight for me. And I could tell, from the absolutely lethal look in her eyes, that until I cried “<em>Pieta”,</em> she was going to do everything in her power to kill me.</p>
<p>I tried to take a quick step back, like Alice had during her fight with Felix, to put myself just out of her reach. But I overshot—by a lot.</p>
<p>I knew I was a lot faster as a vampire. But until now, I’d never actually <em>tried </em>to move quickly. Aside from my own, disastrous feed, I’d mostly just been doing normal things—walking, sitting, standing, nodding, gesturing. And they had only ended up supernaturally fast because of how quickly my new brain worked.</p>
<p>But now that I was <em>trying </em>to move as fast as I could, I realized just how much I’d been holding back.</p>
<p>My new legs propelled me backwards probably a hundred feet before I could even blink. And I had to throw out my hands wildly to steady myself when I suddenly decelerated.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, immortality hadn’t improved my balance. And my sudden rush and stop jerked me forward, the way slamming the breaks on the freeway did.</p>
<p>I did everything I knew to stay upright. And while I tottered precariously, Renata landed exactly where I’d stood, just fractions of a second before.</p>
<p>I hoped to have a few seconds, while she was down in a three-point-landing, to formulate a better plan than <em>dodge</em>. But in just as little time as it had taken me to launch myself away from her, she was on her feet and headed for me again. This time opting to close the distance with a sprint, just in case I tried to dodge her lunge the same way again.  </p>
<p>I cursed under my breath at my bad luck—something Renata heard and <em>laughed</em> at.</p>
<p>Then, all too soon, it was time to evade again. Her teeth, gleaming in two neat, white rows, started snapping near my neck as soon as she got close. I could smell the venom on her breath, wet and sweet.</p>
<p>I ducked as fast as I could, just before her mouth snapped shut, so her teeth closed around air, rather than my throat. I tried to force some extra stability into my legs after I went down, so I wouldn’t topple over. Then, while I worked on my balance, her pale, sand-colored fingers shot out, reaching for my waist.</p>
<p>I tried to think of a strategy, some way to twist this scenario to my advantage, like the way Alice had when she’d slung her leg over Felix, and forced him onto the ground. But in the heat of the moment, that was next to impossible. My instincts were clamoring at me, repeating the same incessant mantra, <em>dodge, dodge, dodge</em>. And I had to concentrate very hard not to move too far when I did dodge, making it very hard to think about anything else.</p>
<p>I messed up a few times, zipping to the complete other side of the room, when I’d only meant to take a few quick steps to the left or the right. And then, I had to wait for her to chase me down again.  </p>
<p>But after a while I started to get the hang of it. Started to be able to focus on minimizing my movement. Started to be able to move short distances at incredible speeds.</p>
<p>It took a lot of concentration. I had to picture each movement vividly in my mind—exactly how far I wanted it to take me, down to the millimeter. And even then, I was far from perfect. But I was learning.</p>
<p>I dodged Renata’s hands and teeth a few more times—zipping slightly left and slightly right so fast I would probably be invisible to the human eye. It was weird how clear my vision was, even at those impossible speeds. The individual fibers on Renata’s clothes still stood out in sharp detail. I could count every one of her dark eyelashes. Even the thousands of tiny dust motes floating around the room didn’t blur in the slightest.</p>
<p>But it was very helpful in helping me avoid all of her attacks. I couldn’t miss anything now. Not unless she somehow snuck up behind me.</p>
<p>Renata snapped at my throat one last time. Then, realizing that wasn’t working, she reached for my waist.</p>
<p>I jumped, on instinct, to avoid the arms closing around my sides. And, because I wasn’t thinking this time, I overshot again.</p>
<p>I had only meant to spring just high enough to carry my feet above Renata’s head. Higher than I’d ever jumped as a human, but I figured it was probably doable as a vampire.  </p>
<p>But I’d been so afraid that I wouldn’t make it, that I hadn’t focused hard enough on the exact distance. So rather than going up maybe six or seven feet in the air, I sailed all the way up to the ceiling—some<em> seventy</em> feet up. In fact, I would have smacked it with my head if I hadn’t braced it with my hand first, and pushed myself back down.</p>
<p>The bricks that covered the top of the room were not insulated with shock-absorbing plastic. They fractured instantly under the impact of my splayed hand. And I felt a stab of guilt as I sailed back toward the ground, with bits of powdery rock clinging to my fingers, and crumbling from the ceiling.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oops… </em>
</p>
<p>I watched sadly, as a few bricks crumbled to dust completely, exposing the rafters and dirt above. Then, deciding my apology to Aro could wait until the fight was over, I looked down to see where I should try to fall. </p>
<p>Renata maneuvered to intercept me when I landed. I guessed she wasn’t worried about me having the upper-hand if I perched on her shoulders. And that worried me.</p>
<p>
  <em>If I land on top of her, I’ll be in a good position to twist things to my advantage. Maybe even get my hands around her neck. She has to know this. So, does she really trust my fighting skills to be that bad?</em>
</p>
<p>If I was being honest with myself, my fighting skills probably <em>were </em>that bad. I’d never even been taught to throw a proper punch. And I still couldn’t really control this body. So, realizing I might <em>not </em>have the upper-hand after all, I tried to steer myself in midair away from her.</p>
<p>It was difficult—she kept following me on the ground. But a moment later, I managed to drop to the floor a few feet to her left. And this time, I wasn’t going to wait for her to attack.  </p>
<p>I broke into a run as soon as I touched down, barreling toward her before she could start sprinting for me. And to my surprise, and satisfaction, she didn’t try to run. Instead, she firmly held her ground, and stuck out two forbidding hands, as if they might halt my approach.</p>
<p>I was confused as to what she was trying to pull—surely, she couldn’t think I would respond to a <em>gesture—</em>when suddenly, I realized she was trying to use her powers. Trying to plant thoughts in my head that would send me dashing off in the other direction.</p>
<p>I felt a slight tingle against my mental shield as I bolted towards her. But her gift hardly tickled the surface. So, rather than running away, like she wanted me to, I kept on course, running straight for her.</p>
<p>Renata’s eyes widened slowly in horror as she watched me continue to sprint. Her powers hadn’t worked. Then, as I threw out a hand, ready to latch it around her throat as soon as I was in grabbing distance, I saw the cogs in her brain whirr to life.</p>
<p>I wasn’t Edward, but I could almost hear what she was thinking—that was how clear the emotions were on her face. It was too late to run, she knew that. She also knew she was no match for me physically. As a newborn, I would have the upper hand there. And her hand-to-hand combat skills, since she had never anticipated that her talents would ever fail her, were probably only marginally better than mine.</p>
<p>All outcomes pointed to me winning. And, had I actually been intending to kill her, she would have been totally screwed.</p>
<p>So, just before my fingers closed around her throat, Renata decided to prostrate herself at my feet. And as soon as she was lying, face-down on the floor, she cried out.</p>
<p>“<em>Pieta!”</em></p>
<p>I slowed rapidly to a halt. A little too rapidly.</p>
<p>I meant to freeze in place, the way Alice had when Felix had surrendered. But it was harder than it looked to completely arrest momentum that way. So, I stumbled after I came to a stop. Then fell, face-first, on top of Renata’s prone form.</p>
<p>She screamed hysterically when my body landed, awkwardly, on top of her. She must have thought I was still attacking. That I was breaking the rule which said I had to stop after she surrendered. That she was going to actually die.</p>
<p>I tried to get off of her as quickly as possible. I wanted to explain that I was just a klutz who didn’t know yet how to handle her own speed and strength.</p>
<p>But Renata’s shrieks garnered the attention of nearly everyone in the room. Half of the guard stopped their own fights to see what all the noise was about. And Caius turned away from the fight he’d been watching to look at me, his cold, crimson eyes full of piercing reproach.</p>
<p>I swallowed thickly. I was in for it now.</p>
<p>“I’m <em>so</em> sorry…” I began apologetically. “I know I’m not supposed to touch her after… but I<em> tripped</em>. I didn’t mean to—”</p>
<p>Aro swiftly cut me off. “There is no need,” He made a stiff, halting gesture, first towards me, then another toward Caius before the snowy-haired vampire would think of punishing me. “You did nothing wrong,” he assured me.</p>
<p>It was my turn to blink in disbelief now. He wasn’t mad at me? Even though I’d broken the only rule these matches had?</p>
<p>As if to prove he was sincere, Aro flitted to my side, and offered to help me up. I took his hand as soon as he held it out, eager to get off of the screaming woman beneath me as soon as possible. Then, he easily hoisted me up with one arm, like I weighed no more than a feather, and set me down on the padded floor, next to Renata’s crumpled cloak.</p>
<p>Renata fell silent as soon as my weight was off her. Then, half a moment later, she suddenly sat up, and looked warily around the room, as though she suspected she might still be under threat.</p>
<p>I smiled sheepishly at her when her eyes found mine, and mouthed the word, <em>sorry. </em></p>
<p>“I fully expect to see more where that came from,” Aro declared, clasping his pale hands together in anticipation.</p>
<p>“You want me to scare the crap out of Renata again?”</p>
<p>I sent a bewildered glance towards Renata. She gazed at Aro with wide, scarlet eyes, and shook her head.</p>
<p>“Master…” she whimpered, pleading.</p>
<p>“There is no need for a rematch,” Aro told us both, and Renata breathed a tiny sigh of relief. “The victor of this round is indisputable.”</p>
<p>I felt a rush of pride as he gestured to me. <em>The victor. </em>Then a sudden swelling of guilt as I saw the look on Renata’s face when it dawned on her that she was the loser. I’d never meant to hurt her feelings. </p>
<p>I tried to make my face apologetic. But without a mirror I wasn’t sure if it was working. My new body didn’t always respond to my commands the way I wanted it to.</p>
<p>Either way, Renata wasn’t even looking. As soon as Aro had effectively declared her the loser, she stood up and marched, with her head bowed, toward the gaggle of other losers huddled near the east wall.</p>
<p>I watched her enmesh herself reluctantly with the other cloaked bodies. Some of them raised eyebrows at her, then flicked dubious glances at me, suggesting they didn’t quite understand how she had lost to an unpracticed newborn. And my guilt only grew stronger as I saw her bite her lower lip in frustration, and ball her hands into tiny, veiny fists.</p>
<p>Aro didn’t miss the way I was looking at her. He gave my shoulder a conciliatory pat. “Do not worry for her, Isabella,” he encouraged. “She simply has not lost a match in a very long time. You are the first to be immune to her gift. This will, in the end, be good for her, I think.”</p>
<p>I nodded numbly, still not quite sure I believed that. Renata looked absolutely <em>mortified </em>to have to stand in the same line as Afton. But, realizing that everyone else had already moved on—either they had resumed their fight, after pausing to watch Renata scream, or were standing against one of the long walls, waiting for the round to be over—I tried not to think about it too hard.</p>
<p>Instead, I walked, with as much dignity as I could muster after tripping so spectacularly, towards the victor’s line.</p>
<p>There weren’t very many people here yet—most of the vampires were still finishing their fights. But Alice had already beaten her opponent, Kadir—one of the Volturi’s lower ranking guards who probably was new enough to have never fought her before. And Jane had dealt decisively with Marcus’ African bodyguard who had won in the previous round. I still wasn’t sure if he was Wambua or Kofe. Whichever was which, both now stood with the others who had lost.</p>
<p>As I approached the two short girls standing against the west wall, I noticed they had deliberately put a large space between them, and were staring pointedly in opposite directions. Like they couldn’t even stand to look at each other.</p>
<p>The gesture struck me as horribly petty. Especially the way tiny Jane had her arms crossed over her chest and was pouting childishly. But it wasn’t hard to guess where the animosity came from. Not since Alice had explained their rivalry earlier.</p>
<p>Hoping to diffuse, rather than contribute to the conflict, I slipped into the space they’d left open, next to Alice. Jane, to my relief, ignored me. She was too busy glowering at the Asian bodyguard fighting Alec. And Alice smiled when she saw me.</p>
<p>I smiled back. “You’re really good at this.”</p>
<p>Alice looked abruptly abashed. She waved a dismissive hand. “Oh it’s… nothing…”</p>
<p>“No really,” I insisted. “I saw your fight with Felix. I thought he would have had you for sure, but…”</p>
<p>Alice chuckled a little under her breath. “Felix is <em>so </em>predictable. Every time he wound up for an attack, I saw it coming a mile off.” She mimed a really slow punch, then laughed again. “He relies almost entirely on his physical strength. He could use some lessons from Caius about subterfuge.”</p>
<p>My eyes widened. “Have you ever…?”</p>
<p>“Fought Caius?” Alice finished for me, already knowing what I was going to ask.</p>
<p>I nodded. And Alice beamed.</p>
<p>“A couple of times,” She said, reminiscing fondly. “He’s… <em>something else</em>. You might be tempted to think, because he has no notable powers, and none of the prodigious strength that Felix and Santiago have that he wouldn’t be much of a threat. But… well just watch.”</p>
<p>Alice pointed across the room. And to my astonishment, when I followed the line of her finger, I saw that Caius had joined the fight to make the number of combatants even. He was up against Vera. And though she was putting up a good fight—not only dodging effectively, but also taking full advantage of his openings—it was obvious who had more combat experience.  </p>
<p>For every attack Vera launched at him, Caius had the perfect counterattack. Unlike her, he never dodged. Instead, whenever her hands reached to grab him, around his waist or around his neck, he would grab her hands before they could intercept him, and twist them around into an armlock.</p>
<p>It terrified me every time. He was able to drag her neck very close to her mouth when she was trapped like that. But Vera was always able to escape, kicking herself free of his grasp just before his teeth snapped together. Though he got closer to sinking them into her skin every time.</p>
<p>I watched, fascinated, as Caius’ hands swiped for Vera’s head after she broke free from his fifteenth armlock. She ducked away from them at the last second, letting his powerful fingers ghost through the air above her.</p>
<p>But, clearly, Caius had been expecting this. Because during the fraction of a second while her head was still bowed, he lunged for her legs, gripping them tightly behind the knees.</p>
<p>The sudden pressure disrupted Vera’s balance. And let Caius fling her up over his shoulders onto the floor. Like some kind of martial-arts takedown.</p>
<p>The plastic mats beneath her body vibrated as she made impact. And once Vera was down, Caius wasted no time climbing on top of her, pinning her wrists with his hands, and her legs with his knees.</p>
<p>After all, he couldn’t rely on the blunt-force-trauma to keep her down. Vampires didn’t even bruise. So a concussion was out of the question. </p>
<p>Vera wriggled, trying to kick or claw herself free. But this time, Caius had all of her appendages locked down.</p>
<p>So, while she struggled fruitlessly beneath him, he was able to lean in. And position his teeth over her neck.</p>
<p>Vera was a proud one. She waited until only a millisecond before Caius’ teeth would have carved into her neck before she admitted defeat. And when the necessary word to stop him spilled from her lips, it came out more like a choked sob, than anything else.</p>
<p>“<em>P-pieta…”</em></p>
<p>Caius, to my immense relief, froze exactly like Alice had, just before his teeth touched her skin. Then he slowly moved back, savoring his victory, and smirked with sadistic pleasure.</p>
<p>Vera shivered, still pinned beneath his powerful, bleach-white hands. And didn’t stop shaking until Caius had lifted off her entirely, and marched proudly to his rightful place in the victor’s line.   </p>
<p>I gulped as Caius slunk into place in front of Alice. And tried not to stare at him. Even if his shocking, snow-white hair hung like a curtain over his shoulder, obscuring me and Alice from his view.</p>
<p>Instead, I turned to watch the other battles. But as my eyes roved over the expansive room coated in red plastic, I noticed everyone else was already finishing up. And it looked like it was time to start the next round.</p>
<p>A few cries of “<em>pieta</em>” could be heard in unison. Soon enough everyone was standing in either the loser’s line, or the victor’s line. Then Aro—who wasn’t fighting himself to keep the numbers even—floated across the plastic matted floor. Somehow, he moved without making the plastic squeak under his boots. A skill obtained from walking for so many millennia, I guessed. </p>
<p>He came to a sudden stop when he reached the victor’s line. His eyes flicked curiously across all the faces assembled here, until they fell on Jane.</p>
<p>“Jane, my dear, would you be willing to engage with Isabella?”</p>
<p>The little vampire immediately stepped forward from the lineup. I thought her short black boots and tight black fighting clothes looked very out of place on her girlish figure. Especially when they were worn under the austere, old cloak of the Votluri guard. But I didn’t doubt, having seen her fight Chelsea already, and knock Edward onto the floor with only the force of her mind, that she was a formidable enemy. </p>
<p>Jane gave an obedient nod towards Aro before suddenly fixating her wild red eyes on me.</p>
<p>“I would be delighted to, Master,” she said in her high, cold voice. Then her pouty lips curled into a malefic sneer.</p>
<p>“I’m not so sure that’s…” I began to protest. I really didn’t want to gain any more enemies today. The way Chelsea and Renata were glowering at me from their places in the loser’s line wasn’t making me feel very good as it was.</p>
<p>But mid-sentence, I realized something. I already knew Jane’s powers wouldn’t affect me. So maybe this would be an easy fight. Maybe she too, like Renata, used her gift as a crutch. Maybe she had no idea how to fight without it.</p>
<p>And maybe, once I’d wiped the floor with her, I could get her to leave Alice alone.</p>
<p>I liked the sound of that.</p>
<p>I shook my head firmly, to refute what I’d been saying. “Never mind.” Then, I sneered right back at Jane, and beckoned tauntingly. “Bring it on.”  </p>
<p>Jane snarled in offence. And every other vampire in the room inhaled in shock.</p>
<p>Afton even murmured something under his breath in Italian—something I suspected probably translated into <em>Oh, this is going to be good. </em></p>
<p>Either that, or <em>she’s screwed. </em>I wasn’t sure how much faith in me the scrawny Scandinavian vampire had. But it hardly mattered. Because the fight had already started.</p>
<p>While I still stood against the victor’s wall, Jane paced some thirty feet away then stared at me in an intense, creepy way. Like she was trying to burn a hole straight through my skull with only her mind.</p>
<p>Her efforts were entirely in vain, of course, as they had been when I was human. This time, however, I could feel her power touch my shield—something I hadn’t been able to perceive while I was still mortal.</p>
<p>But the pressure her power exerted against my mind wasn’t even painful. In fact, I barely felt it at all. It was so insubstantial, it felt like a little puff of air blowing against an impenetrable safe.</p>
<p>Jane’s pearly teeth gritted in frustration after a few seconds passed with no visible reaction from me. And then, shaking with fury, she tried harder. She balled her fists so tightly at her sides that her bloodless veins bulged under the pressure. One vein near her temple looked ready to burst. And through it all, she never broke eye contact. She just kept staring, harder and harder.   </p>
<p>But even when she exerted the full force of her powers on me, the sensation was soft and weak, like a whisper, or a lover’s caress. Not the searing agony I knew she was capable of inducing.</p>
<p>It was a surreal experience, being almost tickled by Jane’s torture powers. And judging from the stunned looks I was getting from the rest of the vampires in the room, I wasn’t the only one who believed so.</p>
<p>Apparently, no one else had <em>ever </em>withstood Jane like this before. And even though this was their second time seeing it, they still found that hard to believe.</p>
<p>My lips twisted with grim satisfaction.</p>
<p>It was time to give the sadistic little girl a taste of her own medicine.</p>
<p>Without any warning, I took off running. I zipped in a straight line towards Jane at full speed. The air whipped around me like a wind tunnel as I moved—so fast. And while I ran, my little grin of satisfaction grew into a savage smile.</p>
<p>There was a millisecond during which nothing changed. Jane’s eyes were still on me, wide and dangerous. And her gift continued to prod impotently at the edges of my shield.</p>
<p>Then suddenly her eyes registered my movement. And Jane’s cherubic face, once full of furious determination, melted into one of unadulterated fear.</p>
<p>The tiny pressure against my mental barrier vanished entirely then. And Jane, my opponent, watched my swift progress across the padded floor for only a fraction of a moment. Before the terrible epiphany she was having prompted her to turn around. And begin to sprint desperately away.</p>
<p>She was fast. Impressively fast, especially considering her size. I hadn’t expected her tiny little legs to be able to carry her that far.</p>
<p>But I’d gotten a good head-start. And thanks to the newborn strength supercharging my legs, I was <em>faster. </em></p>
<p>Not even a full second after our fight had begun, I was within grabbing distance. I swiped at her neck. Jane dodged. I swiped again. She dodged again. And again. And again.</p>
<p>But though she was well trained in evasion, I could tell from her petrified-in-horror face that she knew she could not evade me forever. And when my hands shot out the fifth time, I proved her right.</p>
<p>She ducked away from them when they reached for her head, as usual. But then, deciding to take a page out of Caius’ and Alice’s book, I used the opportunity to attack.</p>
<p>I didn’t grab her knees or sling my leg over her shoulder. Instead, I delivered a sharp knee to her chest. The blow wasn’t really meant to hurt, just to knock her off balance. And it succeeded in that quite well.</p>
<p>Tiny Jane tottered where she stood. Then, while she was still struggling to regain her footing, I kicked her twice in the shins, knocking her legs out from under her. And she fell, like a box of rocks, to the floor.</p>
<p>I heard Aro gasp as Jane’s body hit the plastic mats with a quiet, squeaky, <em>thud</em>. But I didn’t look over my shoulder at him. The fight wasn’t over just yet.</p>
<p>While Jane was down, I planted one of my boots on her right arm. I hoped this would get her to admit defeat.</p>
<p>And for a fractionary moment, it appeared like it was working. Jane didn’t struggle. Instead, she lied, face down on the floor like Renata had before; completely immobile.</p>
<p>Then, suddenly, she twisted her little head towards her right arm. She opened her mouth wide. And I realized, with no small amount of terror, that she intended to bite off the arm that was still trapped securely beneath my boot in order to escape.</p>
<p>I was astonished that she would really go that far in a sparring match. But as my eyes flickered between the unbelievable sight and Aro—who stood a few feet away, watching us with undisguised fascination—I came to a realization.</p>
<p>He probably wanted our fights here to be as realistic as possible. To more adequately prepare us to survive. And if this was<em> real</em> combat, Jane would lose a lot more than just an arm if she stayed trapped.</p>
<p>But, just as her teeth were about to slice through the sleeve of her combat clothes and take her arm with it, I decided not to let Jane make that desperate sacrifice. I grabbed the sides of her head with my hands, and wrenched it away from her arm.</p>
<p>Jane snarled and started thrashing as I craned her head away, trying to free herself. Her free arm scratched viciously at my foot, as it pressed down on her wrist. And her legs kicked wildly, trying to hit me wherever they could.</p>
<p>But neither of these things bothered me in the slightest. Her physical attacks were just as soft and weak as her mental ones.</p>
<p>I let her struggle for a minute or so. Her hard, little fingers shredded my boot, socks and the hem of my dark jeans, but did no damage whatsoever to my skin. Then I pressed my other boot against the back of her head, forcing it to tilt up.</p>
<p>Jane looked up at me, swallowing hard. And I smiled—no, I bared my teeth at her.</p>
<p>She shuddered at the feral display, and stared up at me, this time with eyes pleading, rather than piercing. But I narrowed my eyes. She still hadn’t said the magic word.</p>
<p>So, I pulled back my lips to expose my teeth even more. And lowered my head towards her neck.</p>
<p>Finally, realizing her current situation was inescapable, she inhaled shakily. And a tiny, breathy “<em>pieta…”</em> escaped her trembling lips.</p>
<p>Her pathetic plea would have been totally imperceptible to human ears. But every single person convened in this room heard the unbelievable sound. And many gasped in open amazement.</p>
<p>“Isabella <em>won </em>against Jane?” the freckled vampire, Petra, murmured in a thick, French accent.</p>
<p>She was still standing in the victor’s line from the previous match. And I realized as my eyes flicked over to her, taking in her strange mottled complexion, which looked odd combined with her smooth, unblemished skin, that no one besides Jane and I had moved. That, rather than picking a sparring partner for this round, everyone from both lines had opted to stand still and watch us instead.</p>
<p>I felt horribly self-conscious. Especially positioned as I was, still crushing Jane’s wrist under my heel.</p>
<p>But luckily, Afton came to my rescue. “Isabella? I would have never guessed she was capable,” he contributed blithely from the other side of the room.</p>
<p>As soon as the words left his lips, everyone glared at him, even though I knew many of them had been thinking the same thing. And a few even had the audacity to try and tell him off. I guess he really was the Volturi laughingstock.</p>
<p>While everyone’s attention was diverted, I quickly drew back my foot. Then kindly offered an upturned palm to help Jane to her feet.</p>
<p>For a fraction of a second Jane stared disbelievingly at the hand I was offering her, like it was a foreign object. Then, wearing an indignant expression, she swatted my hand away. And hauled herself to her feet on her own, before walking swiftly away from me.</p>
<p>I guessed her pride could only take so much.</p>
<p>At first, I thought she was overreacting. But as she marched, slowing with every step, toward the loser’s line, I realized she had every reason to not make herself look any weaker by accepting my help. Afton’s comment had only distracted the other Volturi guard members momentarily. Now their eyes were all rapt on Jane. And a few in the loser’s line were even jeering at her as she shuffled toward them gradually, clearly ashamed.</p>
<p>Jane flinched with each insult. And the entire time, she kept her eyes glued to the ground in order to avoid the embarrassment of watching the entire guard mock her weakness. She didn’t even raise her head, when she reached the other side of the wall.</p>
<p>Instead, she kept it hung. And suddenly I thought I understood how she felt. With our perfect memories, no one would be able to forget this defeat—Jane’s <em>first </em>defeat, if I was reading everyone’s expressions correctly. Her humiliation would be preserved forever.</p>
<p>Abruptly, I felt like some kind of apology was in order. “Jane… I’m sorry, I…”</p>
<p>“Don’t you <em>dare </em>patronize me!” Jane hissed acidly.</p>
<p>I snapped my mouth shut instantly.  </p>
<p>Jane gave me one last murderous glare before I turned around. Then, as I flitted to the opposite wall to join the other victors, immediately they began to negotiate sparring pairs amongst themselves. As they debated, they decided to add Aro in this round. But that meant there was no one left to fight with me.</p>
<p>“I appreciate your enthusiasm to include me,” Aro praised, smiling genially. “But for now, in order to keep our numbers even, I must decline. Is there anyone else who wishes to face Isabella instead?”</p>
<p>The victors all began arguing in heated whispers then. No one wanted to be forced to combat me after the devastating spectacle with Jane, it seemed.</p>
<p>Aro’s chiseled face twisted into a subtle frown. Evidently, he wasn’t too surprised that no one wanted to go against the newborn that had broken Jane’s centuries long undefeated streak. But there was no escaping the fact that I needed to be trained to fight. So I wouldn’t be completely useless when the fateful day in Alice’s predictions finally arrived.</p>
<p>I didn’t know exactly how long we had. Alice’s June 15<sup>th</sup> prediction was flexible. But I knew I couldn’t just sit this next round out. After all, Jane was already squaring up again to send fourth-row guard Xavier screaming to the floor.</p>
<p>“No one?” Aro prompted, casting a dubious glance at Alice.</p>
<p>But, before he could say anything else, she was already halfway across the room, locked in determined combat with a different partner. And before Aro could call out anyone else in the victor’s line specifically, they scrambled to do the same.</p>
<p>Alice had grabbed Petra, and practically dragged her to the opposite corner of the room to fight. Alec paired with Felix next. Then Demetri challenged Niko. And Heidi called for the taller of Marcus’ bodyguards standing next to her in the victor’s line—Kofe, I learned.</p>
<p>That left only me and…</p>
<p>…Caius.     </p>
<p>I swallowed as my eyes flicked over to him. There was no way this could end well.</p>
<p>Or so I believed.</p>
<p>There was only one way to really find out.</p>
<p>Before I could think better of it, I adopted a confrontational stance, spreading my legs to match my shoulder-width and hunkering down slightly, as I had seen numerous athletes do on television. That way Caius would immediately know what I wanted.</p>
<p>“Fight me,” I taunted. Then, abruptly remembering my manners, I awkwardly added, “Er… please?”</p>
<p>Caius turned to face me slowly and raised a snowy eyebrow.</p>
<p>I felt a tidal wave of embarrassment wash over me. “You said you wanted to test my natural fighting abilities, right?” I added, trying to phrase it as politely as I could. Trying to dig myself out of this hole I was burying myself in. “Well, what better way to test me then to fight me yourself?”</p>
<p>I tried to smile. But it wasn’t working. My brain was too busy warning me that this was the mother of all stupid ideas. That if I fought Caius, I was going to <em>die.</em></p>
<p>And that feeling only increased when Caius suddenly dashed towards me. His eyes were dark with murderous intent. His whole body was tensed into hard, furious lines. And he was <em>fast.</em></p>
<p>As he sped like a flash of lightning in my direction, I couldn’t decide whether or not he was protesting or acquiescing my desire to fight. But it hardly mattered anyway. Because his livid, fiery eyes, and his muscles surging with all the wrath of a war god scared the crap out of me.</p>
<p>Every instinct begged me to flee. <em>Run. He’s got way more combat experience than you. He will <strong>eviscerate </strong>you! Run! </em></p>
<p>Stupidly, I ignored the feeling, determined to face him head-on. And even more stupidly, rather than waiting for him to make the first move, despite my complete lack of training, I tried to punch him first.</p>
<p>I launched two quaking fists in the general vicinity of his face as he closed the space between us.</p>
<p>The first embarrassingly sailed completely over his head. Either that, or he had ducked just in time. He moved so quickly, it was hard to tell, even with my new senses.</p>
<p>But, to my surprise and delight, the second connected squarely with his left cheek.</p>
<p>His head jerked back upon impact. And I started to hear something fracturing—a sound like a sidewalk getting destroyed in a rockslide. Which was horrifying. Especially when I started to feel tiny, alabaster pieces of his face crumble away beneath my fingers, like the stones on the ceiling had.</p>
<p>
  <em>Vampire skin could… <strong>crumble</strong> like rock too?</em>
</p>
<p>I yanked back my hand, suffused with horror. I was halfway sure I was mistaken. There was no way I could have <em>broken </em>Caius’ face. But sure enough, a tiny spiderweb of fractures, like cracks in concrete, decorated his cheek. </p>
<p>I stood back in shock, staring dumbly at the damage, a moment too long. Caius was only aesthetically damaged—I hadn’t really impaired his ability to fight. And he was <em>livid. </em></p>
<p>So, while I stood frozen with a mortified expression, Caius retaliated. A powerful fist of his own shot out…</p>
<p>…and broke off my jaw.</p>
<p>There was a deafening <em>crack</em> as my face split, from ear to ear, along a line that ran between my lips. Then I watched, disbelieving and terrified, as the lower half of my face disconnected, and clattered to the floor.</p>
<p>Automatically, one hand flew up to feel the ragged, geode-like edges of my injury. And, while my fingers skittered, fearfully over the hard, jagged ridges under my cheeks, I fell to my knees, and the other hand sailed out towards my detached jaw. Scooped it up off the plastic mat. And cradled it to my chest.</p>
<p>I wasn’t really sure what to do next. <em>Would my jaw reattach? </em>I wondered, as I knelt on the plastic padded floor, my face throbbing with a pain similar to what I’d felt when I’d scratched open my shoulder with Alice’s diamond soap. Only a thousand times worse.</p>
<p>I looked up just in time to see the broken edges of Caius’ cheek seal themselves back together seamlessly, returning to a flawless marble surface. When I saw this, I had a fleeting realization that it was possible. That I wasn’t Humpty Dumpty. That I might be able to put myself back together again.  </p>
<p>But before I could even think about making an attempt, Caius was attacking again. And since I was holding my jaw to my chest with both hands, I had no way to defend.</p>
<p>I felt ten, powerful fingers fasten securely around one of my wrists. They hauled me forcibly to my feet, earning a frightened yelp from me—especially as I had to juggle my detached jaw precariously in only one hand now. Then, they contracted, dangerously tight, making my own, marble-like flesh begin to crack.</p>
<p>I cried out in pain. He was <em>breaking </em>my arm. On purpose.</p>
<p>And it <em>hurt. </em></p>
<p>I teetered and trembled as Caius held me upright, bits of porcelain flesh flaking off under his two-handed grip. And had I still been human, the way Caius was glaring at me—like I’d murdered his father, or something—would have made my heart stop beating. I felt like an ant cowering beneath a gardener’s boot.</p>
<p>And it was in that moment, as Caius twisted my arm back, cracking it even more, when I reluctantly realized what I had to do.</p>
<p>Initially, I tried to deny it. I struggled to wriggle free from my tightening prison, much like Vera had attempted under similar circumstances. I was unwilling to lose my winning streak so quickly.</p>
<p>But the longer I struggled, the closer Caius’ lips hovered toward my neck. The wider his mouth split. The stronger I could smell his venom. The better I could see the way it glistened in thick, rivulets on his razor-sharp teeth. The closer those teeth inched to my vulnerable throat, ready to snap. Ready to tear into my skin….</p>
<p>Suddenly, I conceded that my pride was totally irrelevant. If I didn’t say anything, Caius was going to rend my head from my shoulders. He’d already proven himself more than willing to tear off a part of my face.</p>
<p>So, with a heavy heart, I arched my head upwards so that all could hear my plea. And cried at the top of my lungs.</p>
<p>“<em>PIETA!”</em></p>
<p>Or at least, I tried to. It came out kind of garbled with only half of my mouth to form the word.</p>
<p>But to my momentous relief, Caius seemed to understand all the same. Instantly the crushing sensation enveloping my wrist vanished. And Caius staggered back, wearing his usual, coldly aloof expression, to survey the damage.</p>
<p>He didn’t show a single sign—not even a fleeting one—of remorse. In fact, if I was reading him correctly, he still looked upset about the long-gone damage I’d dealt to his face. But he did seem to think I could use some help putting myself back together.</p>
<p>“Here,” he barked, gesturing sharply for me to hand over my detached jaw. “Allow me.”</p>
<p>I handed it to him without question. And hoped I wasn’t making a terrible mistake.</p>
<p>I really didn’t want to go walking around with only half a face for the rest of my immortal life. I mean… maybe I could convince Vera to help me grow it back. But I didn’t want to take my chances with her if I didn’t have to. She still held a huge grudge against Carlisle. And I was guilty by association.</p>
<p>“Hold still,” Caius instructed.</p>
<p>And it was only then, that I realized I’d been shaking.</p>
<p>I tried to school my body into stillness. But it wasn’t working. I was in shock, I realized. Everything had happened so fast during our fight, even my super-brain hadn’t really had time to process. And now that the immediate danger was gone, it was freaking out.</p>
<p>
  <em>Caius could have killed me. I could have died. He tore me apart so easily… If I hadn’t surrendered when I did… </em>
</p>
<p>While I silently lost my mind, Caius discreetly spat a gob of venom into his hands. Then he rubbed it over the jagged edges of my jaw like it was glue, before pressing it up into place.</p>
<p>He only held my jaw up to my face for a brief moment. Then he let go. And to my surprise, and delight, the lower half of my face held in place.</p>
<p>I could feel the fibers reconnecting. It didn’t hurt. But it was <em>weird</em>. Like a thousand microscopic ants were crawling over my skin. I rubbed a hand experimentally over my face when it was finished a few moments later. And was surprised at how seamless the reattachment was. It was like my jaw had never been torn off in the first place.  </p>
<p>A little later, the fractures trailing down my wrist finished healing too. Then I turned to thank Caius. It was oddly nice of him to see to my healing himself. I’d half-expected him to just leave me there, broken and traumatized, and force Aro or Alice to come to my rescue.</p>
<p>But by the time I whipped around, he was already gone.</p>
<p>And as it turned out, Aro came to my rescue anyway.  “Are you alright, my dear?” he asked, flitting to my side an instant later.</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” I murmured, a bit stunned that it was true. “Caius helped patch me up.”</p>
<p>Aro traced a hand over my cheek, as though he wouldn’t believe it without feeling the evidence for himself. He drew back, inhaling in astonishment a moment later. Then patted my shoulder.</p>
<p>“You are very lucky,” he breathed, still marveling. “Caius does not usually treat those who manage to injure him so nicely.”</p>
<p>My eyes bulged as I came to a sudden realization. “He <em>ripped off my jaw</em> because I punched his face?”</p>
<p>That hardly seemed like proportionate retribution. But this was <em>Caius</em>, after all. The same man who had ordered the extinction of an entire race because he’d lost an arm to one of them.</p>
<p>Aro smiled, despite himself at my comment. Then, thankfully, decided to explain.</p>
<p>“I forgot to mention this before, but we usually refrain from doing unnecessary damage if we can. It is not against the rules, and you are a newborn, so its somewhat expected that you will do more physical damage than is needed,” he added before I could get indignant about him not saying so earlier. “But when you broke his face, well that escalated things. And he retaliated in kind.”</p>
<p>I quirked an eyebrow. “Is he <em>not </em>supposed to do that?”</p>
<p>“Caius’ retaliation is not surprising. Not for him, at least,” Aro revealed, confirming my suspicions. “I <em>am </em>however, surprised that he helped you heal. Perhaps you’ve impressed him?”</p>
<p>I jolted at this. “Impressed him?”</p>
<p>Aro tapped his chin ponderously. “Yes. You see, the only person Caius ever loses to is Jane. He has developed strategies to best all the other gifts—even Alice’s. But even after all these centuries, he has never managed to gain the upper hand over Jane. However, today <em>you</em> were able to beat her. And I believe, though I will want to confirm through my gift, of course, that you have gained his respect.”</p>
<p>I sucked in a breath. I trusted Aro’s judgement, even without the use of his powers. But I wasn’t so sure how I felt about that.</p>
<p>“Is that a good thing?”</p>
<p>Aro nodded enthusiastically. “A <em>very</em> good thing. It is quite difficult to earn his respect, I assure you. Especially so quickly. But he is fiercely protective of those he respects. So, you will not have to worry about anyone harming you here. Crossing Caius, outside of these walls, is almost tantamount to a real death sentence. At the very least, he will make you sorely regret it.”  </p>
<p>I gulped. I could believe that.</p>
<p>“But enough talk,” Aro said, waving a dismissive hand. “Let’s get you ready for the next round, shall we?”</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>I fought thirty-six more rounds after that. Until I’d been paired with every person in the room at least once. Some I won. Most I lost. Though none quite as spectacularly as my defeat against Caius. In these other rounds, I usually stood at least half a chance. Only Alice came close, using her powers to defeat me nearly just as quickly as the snowy-haired ancient had.</p>
<p>But thankfully, neither she, nor any of the others who defeated me saw the need to fracture my body. Of course, it helped that I was extra careful to not fracture theirs first.  </p>
<p>My main weakness, of course, was my lack of formal fighting training.</p>
<p>Against the members of the guard who relied most heavily on their powers—and who had mental powers I was immune to—I did alright. Anything that tried to alter or read my thoughts couldn’t penetrate my shield. Which meant Demetri couldn’t track me. Afton’s invisibility illusion had no effect on me. And even Alec’s gift, physical as it seemed, couldn’t numb me. Couldn’t force my brain to stop transmitting sensory signals. Instead, it just swirled around my head, dark and scary, but ultimately impotent—allowing me to take Alec down rather easily when he thought I was incapacitated.</p>
<p>But against everyone else—those with physical gifts, Alice (whose power was neither physical nor mental but some elusive third category), and especially those with centuries of experience fighting wild, untrained newborns like me—I was hopeless. My dodging was still erratic. I kept overshooting, which turned out to be an excellent way to give my opponent an opening. And I even broke my thumb off once, trying to punch Santiago in the stomach.</p>
<p>I resolved not to try that again. It hadn’t been fun at all to have to grope around on the floor after the match to find it.</p>
<p>Sooner than I thought, however, night fell. And it was time for Aro, Marcus and Caius to go with Alice to help compile her list of potential suspects.</p>
<p>The three who were in the sparring room each gave me a short acknowledgement before they left—whether it was an actual goodbye, a little, perky wave, or a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Then, just before they all disappeared out the huge double doors back into the hallway, Aro turned and instructed Renata to stay behind with a handful of guards of her choosing to help me test the limits of my shield.</p>
<p>She agreed automatically. And to my immense relief, her animosity towards me from before seemed to have evaporated in the intervening hours.</p>
<p>But as we got down to business it became increasingly clear that neither of us really knew what to do. She had me practice moving my shield away from me the way I had in the turret room four days ago. Though this time it was Afton’s power that was being allowed to work on me, rather than Titania’s and Lucretia’s.</p>
<p>But that quickly got boring. Moving my shield around was a piece of cake now—as easy as blinking or breathing. And Afton’s invisibility left a lot to be desired. Even when the illusion was allowed to penetrate my defenses, I could still see a faint, shimmering, person-shaped outline that gave away his position.</p>
<p>After a half hour we decided to call it quits. Perhaps another day, Aro would have better instructions for us. Something else we could try.</p>
<p>Renata and I sure didn’t have any original ideas.</p>
<p>As I prepared to leave, Renata caught me gently by the sleeve. And I stopped to hear her out.  </p>
<p>“I just wanted to say I am sorry for how I reacted when you defeated me,” she apologized in a timid voice. “It was never my intention to make you feel unwelcome. It has simply been a long time since I have been defeated by a newborn. But really, I should thank you. You have highlighted a weakness I have. Something I need to improve. Something I <em>can</em> improve, now that I know about it.”</p>
<p>I blinked at her, dumbfounded for a moment. Then I smiled sheepishly. “Uh, no problem.” </p>
<p>Renata smiled back. And I felt a lot better as I left the sparring room.</p>
<p>Maybe everyone I defeated today didn’t <em>have </em>to be my enemy.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>Heidi taught me Italian next in another cramped little room like the one Marcus had taught me history in. It was surprisingly easy, since I memorized new vocabulary instantly. She basically just handed me an English to Italian dictionary and had me read it. I would occasionally ask about pronunciation. And she would repeat the unfamiliar sounds with me until I got it right.</p>
<p>After an hour, I was almost fluent enough to be conversational at a kindergarten level. And that was when Alice came by to pick me up.</p>
<p>“Ready to get changed?” Alice asked brightly, gesturing to the torn-up boot and ripped jeans I was still wearing from earlier.</p>
<p>I shrugged. It didn’t really bother me. But if Alice thought it was important, I would play along.</p>
<p>I set down the English to Italian dictionary. Then gave Heidi a cordial wave, before I followed Alice, supernaturally fast, out the door. We took a path that looked unusually familiar—for how monotonous the cinnamon brown brick walls were around here—up to my bedroom. And then, Alice delicately helped me get changed out of my clothes, so I wouldn’t rip them any further.</p>
<p>“So,” Alice said, as she tugged my black pants down my legs. “How did your first day go?”</p>
<p>I made a noncommittal gesture. “Okay, I guess. But I’m a little worried.”</p>
<p>“About what?”</p>
<p>Alice began undoing the buttons on my frilly white blouse next. And I tried very hard not to feel self-conscious about it. It wasn’t like I had anything she hadn’t seen before. </p>
<p>“You’re going to think it’s silly,” I protested. “We’ve got a newborn army that’s going to threaten our exposure looming in our sights and I’m here worried about…” I trailed off. Then, once Alice had shrugged my shirt off completely, I crossed my arms over my bra. “Like I said, you’re going to think it’s stupid.”</p>
<p>Alice pouted. “I’m not. I promise.”</p>
<p>I groaned. Of course, she would actually know.</p>
<p>“Fine,” I relented as Alice set down my shirt next to my pants and boots, and flitted over to the closet to pick out another outfit, while I sat on the bed in my underwear. “I’m worried that I won’t make any friends.”</p>
<p>“<em>I’m</em> your friend,” Alice pointed out as she ran her finger speculatively down a long row of jeans.</p>
<p>I rolled my eyes. “Of course. But I’m not really going to… you know… fit in very well if you’re my only connection here.”</p>
<p>I cringed. It sounded like I was talking about high school again. Not an austere organization like the Volturi. But my concerns here in Volterra were surprisingly the same as they were back in Forks. Even though I was a fundamentally introverted person, I didn’t want to have <em>enemies. </em></p>
<p>“Aro seems to like you,” Alice added, as she selected a pair of light grey jeans with extra zippers running across the front pockets, and motorcycle-style patches on the knees.</p>
<p>I rolled my eyes again. “Only because he thinks I’m useful.”</p>
<p>Alice shrugged, like that was all anyone could expect from him. Then flitted back over to my side and began easing the grey motorcycle jeans up my legs. I helped her as much as I could. But I didn’t dare touch the denim myself, knowing I would shred it instantly beneath my unpracticed fingers.</p>
<p>“You impressed Caius today,” Alice pointed out, as she rushed back to the closet to pick out a shirt.</p>
<p>I blinked, once, twice. <em>When had she heard about that? Or had she seen it?</em>  </p>
<p>Then, while I struggled to figure it out, suddenly, unbidden, a murky human memory of the formidable man resurfaced. I remembered what he’d looked like in the turret room when he fed. How <em>savage </em>he’d been about the entire process. And how, when it was finished, his lips, spattered in blood, had curled with sadistic glee.</p>
<p>And suddenly I was reminded of the fact that I would have to join him next month. It had been such a long day, and there had been so much to distract me that I had forgotten all about that. Forgotten about the monster I had become. About the man I’d killed. About how inevitable it was that I would kill again.</p>
<p>I felt my stomach churn with unease. And when Alice came back, holding a black, alpaca wool sweater, she didn’t miss it. Her face turned sympathetic as she helped me into it. And she patted my shoulder.</p>
<p>“I know it seems impossible now. But you’ll adjust,” Alice assured me. “Just give it a little time.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Since my last chapter was a little late, I figured I'd put this one out a little early, as a treat.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>CHAPTER FIVE: PREPARATIONS</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>
  <em>I’d been trying not to think too much about the other things that I would be. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Wild. Bloodthirsty. Maybe I would not be able to stop myself from killing people.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> … People… who’d had families and friends and futures. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>People who’d had lives.</em>
</p>
<p>Bella, Eclipse, Chapter 15</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>The next month passed in more or less the same fashion. I would leave my room when the sun rose and be taught etiquette by Aro in the same, cramped room full of broken furniture. Then, after a couple of hours, Aro would lead me to the other small room, with only a little writing desk inside, where Marcus would teach me history. Then, after a couple of hours of that, Caius would come fetch me, and I would spend the remainder of the daylight hours sparring in the enormous room padded with thick, red plastic. After Caius’ training, Renata would test my shield. Then Heidi would teach me Italian. And when all of that was finished, I was free to spend the rest of the night as I wished, until the sun rose, and the process would begin anew. </p>
<p>It wasn’t a horrible routine, as far as routines went. It was predictable. And yet also quite interesting. There was always something new for me to learn.</p>
<p>Aro taught me everyone’s preferred method of address. Which was helpful in not pissing other people off. He also taught me some simple hand gestures I could use to silently communicate. Everything from how to order around the guard members beneath me in the hierarchy, to how to express assent to orders given to me by those who ranked above. And after I’d mastered those, Aro started having me practice marching formations in the turret room—since it was the largest room in the castle besides the sparring room—with the rest of the guards.</p>
<p>Those were the hardest.</p>
<p>In <em>theory</em>, the formations were rather simple. We simply would move together in whatever shape Aro had scrawled on a piece of parchment, keeping the most valuable members wearing the darkest cloaks in the middle, and the more expendable members wearing lighter cloaks on the outside. Then we would simply follow whatever cues Aro gave us to contract, or fan out, or switch directions as we marched around the room.  </p>
<p>Like every other bit of etiquette, he’d taught me, I memorized all the marching cues instantly. But I had a hard time slowing down my movements to the unhurried, almost human pace that the guard used during many of their marches. So, when we weren’t running combat drills—our faster marches—I kept bumping into other vampires, and kept tripping on the edges of their cloaks. Which annoyed everyone greatly.</p>
<p>In fact, it got so bad that Aro had to pull me aside one day and coach me about my movements.</p>
<p>“Try to imagine the action taking longer in your mind,” he advised one morning, before we started our marches. “And do not simply think ‘I want to go slower’ either. Because to your new senses, what seems ‘slow’ is not in fact slow enough,” he explained. “Instead, try to picture the exact amount of time you want it to take. Say to yourself, ‘I want this footstep to take a full second’. Then count it in your head.”</p>
<p>I looked at Aro quizzically. “One-one-thousand?”</p>
<p>Aro shook his head. “I am afraid that little trick will no longer work either.”</p>
<p>I pouted. He was right. The chronometric only worked for humans because of how slow their brains were. As a vampire, I was going to need a new one.</p>
<p>“How long is a second anyway?” I asked.</p>
<p>I felt like I had a rough idea. But I hadn’t actually seen a clock with seconds on it since my transformation, so I couldn’t be sure.</p>
<p>Alice, prepared for everything, whipped a stopwatch out of her pocket and tossed it to Aro. It whistled through the air, sailing across the room in a quick, graceful arc. Then he caught it, set the timer for one second, and held it out in his palm so I could watch.</p>
<p>There were four bright red numbers after the second—milliseconds I guessed. But they counted down from a thousand a lot slower than I thought they should. The time ticked by painfully slowly. And when it was over, I sucked in a startled breath.</p>
<p>
  <em>That long?</em>
</p>
<p>I looked up at Aro, dumbfounded. I’d been off with my calculations before. I’d known that my brain was faster now, so I’d tried to compensate accordingly. But I’d thought a second was <em>half </em>that long, at least. A full second—an actual, honest-to-god-second—was an <em>eternity. </em>I could list every president of the United States forwards <em>and </em>backwards during that time.</p>
<p>No wonder I’d been so unsuccessful at slowing down my movements before.  </p>
<p>I set the timer a few more times, burning that length of time into my memory. Then, when we started up our marching drills for the day, finally, I started to get better at matching the pace of the other guards. I had to step on a lot of toes in the process. And I fell on my face more than once. But I was getting better.  </p>
<p>…</p>
<p>One day, we took a break from the etiquette and the formations. We met in the conference room, in front of the huge map of the world spanning the right wall.</p>
<p>The map was probably twenty feet high, and three times as wide. Big enough that even the smaller cities could be written in at a legible size. And it was an impressive work of cartography. The terrain stood out, bumpy and color-coded according to climate. And every body of water was accounted for, down to the tiniest creek.</p>
<p>Somewhat distracting from the beauty of it, however, was the fact that the map was littered with thousands of tiny red push pins. They were situated in odd, randomly scattered clusters of two or three, with the occasional larger patch here and there. There were twenty-nine red push pins in the middle of Italy, centered tightly around the word VOLTERRA. Three or four patches of about fifteen clustered around the border between Texas and Mexico. Ten in Cairo, Egypt. Nine in Bejing, China. Eight in Dehli, India. A few clumps of five or six across northern Russia. And one cluster of four in Sydney, Australia.  </p>
<p>I counted one-thousand one-hundred and sixteen in total—a calculation that only took half a second. But upon closer examination, I realized not all of the pins were red. I spotted two tiny clusters of gold pins sticking out of Forks Washington, and Denali Alaska.</p>
<p>“Are those… the Cullens?” I asked, pointing to the cluster of six gold pins crammed together on the Olympic peninsula.</p>
<p>Aro nodded. And as the implications of this confirmation sunk in my mouth gaped in wonder.</p>
<p>“So, this map has every vampire in the world on it?”</p>
<p>Aro nodded again. And my astonishment only increased. “Every one I am aware of, anyway,” he stipulated, before I could get too excited. “There may be a handful more I have not met personally—no more than ten or so, I am guessing. New vampires don’t always announce themselves, even if that is the polite thing to do. Especially if they are created as part of illegal, newborn armies. But it is, of course, impossible to hide from us forever.”</p>
<p>I nodded myself, a fast, jerky bob. I couldn’t imagine, with how often his guards combed over the earth, that any vampire could escape his scrutiny for very long.</p>
<p>Then, after pondering something else for a sixteenth of a second, I pointed to the other golden cluster in Alaska. The cluster I now knew represented the Denali clan.</p>
<p>“Do you really think they could be responsible for what Alice is seeing?” I asked nervously.</p>
<p>I didn’t really like the idea. As unhealthy as I knew vegetarianism to be, and as impossible as it was without Carlisle’s mind-altering help, I didn’t want to believe they would deliberately seek to sabotage us. Even if we had hurt them in the past, they couldn’t still hate the Volturi that badly, could they?</p>
<p>Luckily, Aro seemed to agree. He softly shook his head, before pointing to the cluster of gold pins in Alaska.</p>
<p>“Although they resist their natural instincts, and they miss their former coven leader, I do not believe them to be the authors of the chaos that Alice predicts. Nor, for that matter, do I suspect the Cullens are involved,” he added, hovering his finger down to point at the cluster of gold pins in Washington. “They may be misguided, but I do believe their hearts are sincere. They would never do anything which would jeopardize the lives of so many humans.”</p>
<p>I nodded again, relieved. If Aro believed they were innocent, then they probably were. He after all, having read all of their innermost thoughts up to a certain point, would have a better idea than anyone what their personalities and tendencies towards violence were.</p>
<p>But then, that left the question open. The question that had been gnawing at me ever since I’d seen Marcus’ suspicious expression in the conference room on my induction day. Who <em>was </em>going to create the newborn army in Alice’s visions?</p>
<p>I scrutinized the map again, focusing on the red push pins closest to Seattle. There were more than I expected. The single one hovering between Forks and La Push I suspected was Victoria. But there were three more clustered around Spokane. And two down in Portland.</p>
<p>“Who are they?” I asked, pointing to the two unfamiliar clusters.</p>
<p>“Nomads,” Aro responded.</p>
<p>I blinked at him, confused. “But if they’re nomads… how do you know where they are? I thought Marcus said they don’t stay in the same place for very long?”</p>
<p>“Marcus is correct,” Aro acknowledged, reaching up to tap the two clusters of pins in question. “Therefore, these locations are not absolute. But I am fairly confident they are <em>close.</em> We keep track of the rough location of nomads through a number of different methods. Crime statistics. Past patterns of movement. Information from our informants.”</p>
<p>I was impressed with how thorough the Volturi were about this. Paying attention to every little detail. But I balked at the last one.</p>
<p>“Informants?”</p>
<p>“Did you notice how I let Hippolytus and Octavia keep our insignia?” Aro asked, gesturing to the silvery, V-shaped necklace bearing the Volturi coat of arms resting over his unbeating heart.</p>
<p>I nodded. Then looked at Aro, confusion etching my hard features. “Yes, but why?”</p>
<p>“They may be unwilling to stay and fight, which forfeits their right to the cloak and the honor of being counted among the guard. But they can still be of use to us in their respective homes,” Aro explained. “They can monitor the movements of vampires around them, and send us that information. So, we can perform our duty as the world’s police, more effectively.”</p>
<p>I blinked rapidly in surprise. “All old Volturi members become <em>spies</em>? Not just Alice?”</p>
<p>I thought her going off on her own and coming back was a fluke. And I’d thought it was odd that Aro didn’t seem all that upset by it, when he clearly hadn’t ordered it. But now I was starting to find out that might be the norm. That vampires might join and leave and rejoin the Volturi all the time.</p>
<p>Aro’s face split into an unnervingly wide grin. “Most do report back to us in some fashion or another, yes,” he confirmed. “And some even elect to return to the guard after a season. Or alternate between being here in Volterra, and away in some other part of the world. Only twelve members of the guard have stayed with us permanently. The rest come and go.”</p>
<p>So, I was right. It <em>was </em>normal for people to leave.</p>
<p>But I was more surprised by the other implication of Aro’s statement. I hadn’t expected him to be that magnanimous.</p>
<p>“You let them back in every time old members come back?” I sputtered in shock.</p>
<p>Aro laughed a little at the idea, and gently shook his head. “Not every time,” he corrected. “Sometimes we have too many members—for logistics’ sake, I try never to exceed forty. Or the role they used to fulfill has been taken by another. For example, we had a different tracker before Demetri, who would not be allowed to return to the guard if he ever tried, simply because his presence would be redundant, and we can only afford to feed so many.”</p>
<p>I swallowed. So that’s what Aro had meant by <em>logistics. </em>The logistics of murdering so many humans on a regular basis without the general populace becoming aware of it.</p>
<p>I shook myself vigorously before the ghastly images could start to fill my head. Then asked another question to distract myself.</p>
<p>“How many are there out there? Former members of the Volturi, I mean?”</p>
<p>Aro tapped his chin in thought. It only took him a quarter of a second to do all the calculations. “Well, a good number of them are no longer with us. However, assuming you are only interested in the number of our former members who are still alive, that would put the number at about a hundred forty-eight.”</p>
<p>I gasped. “<em>One hundred and forty-eight</em>?” I did the math quickly in my head. “That’s more than ten percent of all the vampires in the world!”</p>
<p>Aro beamed, proud of himself. “Indeed, it is. However, we need as many allies as possible if we are going to maintain enough power to enforce order, would you not agree?”</p>
<p>“I guess…” I admitted weakly. He did have a point. Even if the words <em>maintain power</em> still made me and my egalitarian upbringing uneasy.</p>
<p>Then, an even less pleasant thought crossed my mind. “But Alice thinks it’s one of those hundred and forty-eight, or one of their friends, doesn’t she?” I asked. “That’s why she’s having you make a list?”</p>
<p>Aro frowned and nodded gravely. “It would make the most sense, given our enemy’s apparently intimate knowledge of how to exploit the limitations of Alice’s power, that they, or someone they know would have worked with us in the past,” he reluctantly conceded. “But I think we can narrow it down a bit more than that. <em>That </em>is why dear Alice is having me and my brothers make the list,” he stressed. “Because it is hardly practical to go after so many suspects. Perhaps, when we have whittled the list down, we can begin the interrogations.”</p>
<p>I nodded quickly. That made sense.</p>
<p>“How close are you?” I probed, deadly curious.</p>
<p>Aro gave the matter some thought, before replying. “By April 19<sup>th</sup>, I think the list should be finished.”</p>
<p>“What’s so special about April 19<sup>th</sup>?” I asked.</p>
<p>Aro smiled wickedly. And my heart sank in my chest. That was never a good sign.  </p>
<p>“It is the date of our next meal.”</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>Aro and I went back to running marching drills with the guard the next day. And the next. Until April 19<sup>th</sup> arrived. It had become the new routine with him—practicing formations, now that we’d exhausted everything to do with Volturi coven etiquette. But not everyone’s routine had changed.</p>
<p>Marcus’ routine stayed more or less the same during that entire first month. He taught me more about the Volturi’s history. Including when every core guard member was acquired. And every notable confrontation they’d had since their inception.</p>
<p>It was a lot of information. And though my memory was perfect now, I was glad that Aro had deigned to write it all down. I found myself consulting one of his journals often during Marcus’ lesson, pouring over the dates.</p>
<p>
  <em>2500 BC – Amun, Kebi, and others formed the Egyptian Coven </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1400BC – 1200BC – The Volturi family was formed.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1150BC – Aro romanced Sulpicia as a human, and had her changed into his mate.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1100BC – Chelsea a.k.a. Charmion became the first member of the Volturi guard. Marcus and Didyme began travelling the world together, only occasionally returning to Volterra.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1100 – 1000BC – Corin and several other vampires joined the Volturi guard.      </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1000 BC – Vladimir, Stefan, and others formed a coven in current Romania. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>500 AD – The Volturi laid siege on the Romanians. The Voturi began enforcing their laws.             </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>600 AD – The Volturi laid siege on the Egyptian coven.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>800 AD – Alec and Jane joined the Volturi guard.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1000 AD – Demetri joined the Volturi guard, hunted down the survivors from the previous wars. Two from each were left alive to spread the word. The Volturi gained undisputed, world-power. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1000 AD – 1300 AD – Immortal children plagued the world. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1260 AD – Renata joined the Volturi guard.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1550 AD – Heidi joined the Volturi guard.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1600 AD – Felix and Santiago joined the Volturi guard. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1700 – 1720 AD – Carlisle stayed with the Volturi.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1700 AD – Marcus and Didyme had a son, Tristan. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1720 AD – Eleazar joined the Volturi with his mate, Carmen. He found ten humans with potential for powers around the globe and brought them to be changed. Six died in Carlisle’s experiment. Afton, Yvonne, Vera and Heinrich lived. Heinrich was dismissed for being a hinderance. Yvonne left for personal reasons a year later. Vera and Afton remained until the present day. Carlisle, unable to trusted not to bring about undue harm to himself, and potentially others, was dismissed from the coven. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1730AD – Aro and Sulpicia had a daughter, Valentina.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1756 AD – Caius and Athenodora had a son, Theodore.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1770 – 1810 AD – Newborn armies plagued the southern United States. Intervention became necessary.   </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1820 AD – Didyme and her son Tristan perished in a tragic accident. Marcus stopped travelling.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1906 AD – Valentina left the Volturi.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1920 AD – Alice joined the Volturi. She worked on and off, leaving every couple of years to explore the world, but always came back.   </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1948 AD – Alice left the Volturi, all believed for good this time.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1956 AD – Titania and Lucretia were born.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1960 AD – Theodore left the Volturi. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>2006 AD – Alice returned to the Volturi.</em>
</p>
<p>Marcus went over every event listed in Aro’s timeline in vivid detail. And he talked slowly, in a tired, apathetic voice, which dragged things out a bit longer than necessary. But his lessons were never boring, despite his monotone. And he was always open to answering questions. Even if he evidently did not appreciate being side-tracked.</p>
<p>Or the questions were painful ones.</p>
<p>I asked him one day, after debating about the wisdom of such a thing within myself for weeks, to explain how Didyme and Tristan had died. And that was a tale I would never forget.</p>
<p>“Aro was experimenting with faster ways to kill criminals,” Marcus began in the same, weary old voice as usual. “I thought the whole venture was unnecessary from the start—Jane and Alec together could incapacitate anyone long enough for us to rip them apart and burn the pieces. But it was the Industrial Revolution, and Aro was eager, like the rest of the world, to invent.”</p>
<p>“Had I known how horribly wrong this experiment of his was going to go, I would have stopped him, of course,” Marcus went on. “But we had no way of knowing. Alice would not become immortal for another century. And all of Aro’s other experiments during the technological boom had been successful.”</p>
<p>I raised an eyebrow. “Other experiments?”</p>
<p>Marcus nodded slowly, and gestured to the strange stretchy fighting uniform I was wearing in preparation for Caius’ lesson after this. After my black jeans and one of my boots had been destroyed, Alice had insisted I get my own set of combat clothing. And that I change into it as soon as my morning lessons began, and didn’t change out of it until my training for the day was over.</p>
<p>“Aro was interested in material science—in creating materials that would better withstand our speed and strength in combat,” Marcus explained. “The clothing we used to wear beneath our cloaks into battle had always worn down quickly. And while money was no object when it came to replacing them, it <em>was </em>tedious to have to order more to be tailored so frequently. Especially before the advent of mass production.”</p>
<p>I nodded quickly. That made sense.</p>
<p>“His experiments with clothing, as you can see, were a great success,” Marcus said. “That uniform should, barring exceptional circumstances, stand up to decades of wear.”</p>
<p>I gasped. “<em>Decades</em>?”</p>
<p>“Provided you do not cut through it with your teeth,” Marcus stipulated. “Or another immortal’s teeth.”   </p>
<p>“That’s so… <em>long</em>,” I marveled. Especially since I’d seen the kind of damage the Volturi could do during the sparring sessions first hand. And I couldn’t imagine actual battle was any kinder. “What is it made of?”</p>
<p>Marcus shrugged. “I am not certain exactly of all of the materials. It is, as I understand it, a rather complicated blend of fibers. Mostly new synthetics I could not tell you much about. I am not an expert in all this—” he waved an irritable hand, “—newfangled technology.”</p>
<p>I bit back a laugh. So, Marcus, at the very least, had one thing in common with other old people I knew. It was strange to think of him like a senior citizen when his face didn’t look a day past nineteen. But it was the truth.</p>
<p>Another one of many truths I would have to get used to. </p>
<p>“You could ask Aro sometime, if you are curious,” Marcus went on. “He is the one who oversees everything our private contractors produce.”</p>
<p>He said this with the same, bored monotone as always, like he wasn’t saying anything momentous. But I didn’t miss it.</p>
<p>“You have private contractors?” I blurted out, stunned.</p>
<p>I’d suspected as much before. But it was another thing to hear Marcus confirm it.</p>
<p>“There is… a company in Italy that specializes in weapons-grade materials for the Italian military,” Marcus explained. “We pay a small, underground branch of theirs a large sum of money every month to discreetly produce everything we need. From those combat clothes, to Titania and Lucretia’s toys, to the soap Alice and Aro formulated together, and many, many other things.”</p>
<p><em>So, <strong>they</strong> were the ones who made all that stuff. A secret branch of an Italian military weapons provider. </em> </p>
<p>“I believe Aro has been working with them for the past century on making metal sturdy enough to withstand our prodigious strength,” Marcus added, in case I was interested. “He’s hoping to replace the old grates in the sewer entrances with something a lot more likely to keep our enemies out. As well as perhaps make cages or chains that could restrain our kind. I have not seen the results myself. But I have heard that the prototypes are performing quite nicely.”</p>
<p>I gaped in shock. <em>Metal that could resist vampires?</em></p>
<p>The idea seemed patently ridiculous at first blush. I’d seen Edward crush the side of a van almost effortlessly. And he wasn’t even half as strong as the Volturi were.</p>
<p>But as I thought it through, I guessed it wasn’t completely outside the realm of physical possibility. Metals could be mixed into stronger alloys. New materials were being made every day to fit the needs of an increasingly complex, modern society. And vampire skin, tough as it was, still had to follow the laws of physics. So, it was only a matter of time, really, before a team of smart material scientists were able to make something that would fit Aro’s specifications. </p>
<p>“How much do you pay them?” I asked.</p>
<p>I wasn’t sure what the Volturi’s net worth was. I suspected, from their age, and Alice’s involvement in the last century, that it was probably somewhere in the billions, thanks to their money gathering interest in the bank, and Alice’s stock market maneuverings. Enough to make the Forbes 500 for sure, if vampires had been allowed to be listed.</p>
<p>But with their finances being deliberately obfuscated, it was hard to tell just <em>how </em>rich they were. Did they have enough money to equal the GDP of a small country? A<em> large</em> country?  </p>
<p>The distinction wasn’t really that important most of the time. But I couldn’t help but wonder now just how much could the Volturi afford to pay these military contractors. I knew military-grade equipment didn’t come cheap. The United States government consistently sunk more than half of its enormous federal budget into defense spending every year. In fact, they’d been paying so much for war stuff lately, while waging their “War on Terror” that they’d racked up trillions of dollars in debt.</p>
<p>Could the Volturi afford <em>that</em>?</p>
<p>But to my absolute consternation, Marcus simply shrugged again. “Aro and his secretaries handle all the finances. I simply know it is a very large amount that we wire-transfer to them each month.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Wire-transfer? What, like electronically? </em>
</p>
<p>“Is that legal?” I asked.</p>
<p>
  <em>Couldn’t wire-transfers be tracked?</em>
</p>
<p>Marcus looked askance at me. “Is anything we do legal by human standards?”</p>
<p>I clammed up, feeling embarrassed. “I guess not,” I murmured quietly, shaking my head. “But how do you keep that connection a secret if the money is all transferred digitally?”</p>
<p>I didn’t know all the specifics. But I’d watched enough CSI to know that bank accounts could be watched. If you wanted to keep things off the books, cash was the way to go.</p>
<p>Of course, for that same reason, large sums of cash were suspicious. So, money-laundering was a thing most organizations operating outside the rules of human laws had to contend with at some point.</p>
<p>Marcus shrugged for a third time. “Again, I am the wrong person to ask. But I do know we disguise most of our outgoing money as charitable donations or expensive fine art purchases. So, it is likely the contractors we work with are able to simply claim they have a generous, anonymous benefactor or patron, if anyone begins to ask to many questions.”</p>
<p>I blinked, dumbfounded. <em>Really, it was that easy? </em></p>
<p>“We do make a lot of genuine contributions to various charities, and we are also true patrons of the arts, science, medicine, music, and so forth,” Marcus felt the need to add. “We pose to the humans as a family that comes from old money. So, the Italian government does not look too closely when we make a large purchase, or make an odd charitable donation or two to a charity they have never heard of.”</p>
<p>Marcus paused for a second to let that sink in. Then, when I nodded, he added, “Especially, if we say…” he made a noncommittal gesture “…transfer some of that money <em>to</em> the government.”</p>
<p>I nodded again a bit more briskly. <em>Bribes.</em> I guess that made sense.</p>
<p>Though it reeked of corruption. And I tried not to let that make me uncomfortable.</p>
<p>“Anyway, you were saying… about Didyme?” I asked, hoping to get back on topic. We’d gotten off on another tangent again. Which seemed to be a bad habit I had when I was talking to Marcus.</p>
<p>Marcus’ face hardened. “Yes. Well, Aro started working with this military weapons company in the late seventeen-hundreds. And in eighteen-twenty, after many successful inventions, they were helping him devise a method to kill our kind faster.”</p>
<p>I pursed my lips together. This already wasn’t sounding good.</p>
<p>“The initial design was something like a modern flame-thrower,” Marcus went on. “It never got as sophisticated as the ones humans developed later. But that was the general idea.”</p>
<p>I narrowed my eyes. “I thought Alice said flamethrowers weren’t very effective?”</p>
<p>I wasn’t sure what her exact words had been. But I seemed to recall, somewhere in the haze of my human memories, her either saying or implying something about flamethrowers not being very effective weapons against vampires.</p>
<p>“Not in human hands,” Marcus clarified.</p>
<p>Things clicked in my head a sixteenth of a second later. “Oh. He meant this to be a thing used in vampire-to-vampire combat?”</p>
<p>Marcus nodded. Then frowned deeper than usual. “He never got that far. He made a lab for himself in the catacombs and was tinkering with the formula for Greek fire—a weapon used on ancient Greek ships,” he added when I blinked in confusion. “—trying to adapt it for land-based combat. But he never got past the prototyping phase.”</p>
<p>My head bobbed vigorously. I didn’t know exactly what this “Greek Fire” stuff was all about. Maybe once I could trust myself around a computer again, I would Google it. But I wanted to let Marcus know I was following well enough for him to continue. </p>
<p>Marcus went on. “One night, Aro had to leave the lab to interrogate a suspected criminal. He only left the prototype unattended for a couple of hours,” he told me, the devastation slowly creeping into his voice. “And he had no reason to suspect anything would happen. No one had ever visited the catacombs before without a clear reason.”</p>
<p>Marcus swallowed, and forced himself to continue, though it was clearly taking its toll on him. “I was in the library, just across the hall, reading a book. I didn’t hear Didyme and Tristan go into Aro’s lab. But perhaps I simply wasn’t paying attention. I thought they were in the courtyard of the city. The sky was dark enough for them to move freely in the streets. And, even though Aro thought it was unwise, for our secrecy’s sake, she did like to mingle occasionally with the townspeople.”  </p>
<p>A tiny, fleeting smile decorated Marcus’ face as he reminisced about Didyme and her idiosyncrasies. It was like a sliver of sunlight had slipped through the cracks of his perpetual gloom. But it only lasted for a twenty-fourth of a second before it was suddenly replaced with the deadest, darkest expression of all.</p>
<p>Marcus swallowed again. And I stiffened where I stood.</p>
<p>Here it came.</p>
<p>“To this day none of us are sure what happened. But when I finished my book, Didyme and Tristan were nowhere to be found. I checked every room in the fortress. Every street in the town. And I asked everyone I came across if they had seen anything—but of course they had not.”</p>
<p>I started slowly chewing on the corner of my lip. It didn’t take a genius to see where this was going.</p>
<p>“When Aro returned to the catacombs to tinker with his prototype,” Marcus continued, his voice wavering. “I went with him, thinking they might have gone to see the device together. But when we pulled open the door…</p>
<p>Marcus swallowed a third time. And I winced.</p>
<p>“…there were thick, black, scorch marks all over the stone walls and floor. And two…”</p>
<p>Marcus choked, his voice cracking and giving out with emotion. The words were too painful. But he forced himself to try and say them anyway.</p>
<p>“…two g-glittering piles of…”</p>
<p>I held up a hand to stop him before he could hurt himself. I already knew what he was going to say—<em>two glittering piles of ash. </em>And he looked like he was going to break down sobbing. His scarlet red eyes—no longer the freshly fed vivid crimson, but not quite a thirsty burgundy either—were fogging over with thick clouds of venom. And his breath was coming out in sharp, halting gasps.</p>
<p>“I’m <em>so</em> sorry,” I breathed. “That must have been <em>horrible</em>.”</p>
<p>Marcus nodded sharply in agreement, his lips trembling. Then, quite unexpectedly, he flung his arms around me in a desperate hug. And began to tearlessly weep.</p>
<p>I held him as best I could—at six feet, he was taller than me. And patted his back affectionately. I felt awkward, hugging him. We barely knew each other. And he was supposed to be a person who held authority over me. Not someone who was barely holding it together, and relying on me to support him.</p>
<p>But as I tried my best to comfort him in my arms, while he shook with great, heaving sobs, I realized, even if he was an ancient powerful vampire, underneath all that, he was still just a man. A man bereft from the loss of his wife and child. A man who, I realized with a jolt, could still remember with crystal clarity what his wife and son’s ashes looked like, even though the accident had occurred nearly two hundred years ago.</p>
<p>I gulped, and rubbed little circles against his long, lean back.</p>
<p>
  <em>No wonder he looked so lifeless all the time.</em>
</p>
<p>We stayed on safer topics after that. But I did believe, after sharing his story, that Marcus and I had crossed an invisible barrier. That he regarded me less as some generic subordinate he had to train because Aro wanted him to, and more as an individual person he got the privilege of sharing the Volturi’s history with.</p>
<p>His lifeless voice and generally bored demeanor didn’t change. So, maybe I was imagining it. But every now and then, I thought I saw, for no longer than a sixty-fourth of a second, Marcus give me a tiny smile, before Caius collected me for my physical training.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>Caius’ routine wasn’t as stable as Marcus’, nor as erratic as Aro’s. On my second day in the sparring room, I had my own fighting uniform. And Caius finally started teaching me some moves.</p>
<p>We started with the very basics—how to stand during a fight, how to throw a punch, how to kick without being knocked off balance, etc. We worked our way up from there, tackling a few new moves every day, while making sure I hadn’t forgotten the ones I’d learned during our previous sessions.  </p>
<p>His was probably the hardest training I received from the three brothers. My super-vampire-brain made memorizing historical names, dates, and the Volturi’s secret cues a piece of cake. And I was getting better at slowing my pace during the marching drills once I knew how long a second really was. But I had absolutely no background in fighting—or anything athletic for that matter. And it showed.</p>
<p>I knew in <em>theory</em> how to do everything Caius taught. I memorized his instructions permanently as soon as they left his lips. But in practice, I didn’t always succeed. My lack of coordination from my human life had carried over. And it frustrated Caius to no end.</p>
<p>“Isabella, for the last time, what did I say about letting your opponent get their arms around you?” He snapped one day, after I’d received a rather decisive defeat from Felix.</p>
<p>“Not to do it?” I mumbled, suffusing with embarrassment.  </p>
<p>Caius put his hands on his hips and glowered down at me. I was still flat on my back on the plastic mats from when Felix had tackled me to the floor and forced me to surrender. </p>
<p>“And what did you do?” he hissed.</p>
<p>I sighed. “Let Felix get his arms around me.”</p>
<p>Caius pinched the bridge of his nose, like my incompetence was giving him a headache. Which of course it wasn’t. Vampire’s didn’t get headaches. But still.</p>
<p>“Can you, or can you not follow instructions?” he asked, exasperated.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I’m trying!” They were pathetic excuses, I knew. But they were the truth. “It’s just… I’m so new to this. And sometimes my body doesn’t want to follow my commands!”</p>
<p>I growled in frustration—the ferocious sound making a few nearby guard members stiffen. Then, as if to demonstrate how sloppy my control really was, I raised my arms above my head and wiggled them like boneless noodles.</p>
<p>Caius narrowed his eyes. “Then <em>make</em> it follow,” he snapped.</p>
<p>Then suddenly, he sighed and his voice lost a little of its biting edge. “You have true potential, Isabella. You defeated Jane, which is hardly something to scoff at,” he unexpectedly praised.</p>
<p>I guessed he really was still impressed by that.</p>
<p>“But unless you can master the use of your strengths, your weaknesses will be your downfall.”</p>
<p>I sat up on the mats and hung my head. “You’re right.” Then I tilted my head back up and looked Caius dead in the eyes, with an expression of determination. “I’ll keep trying.”</p>
<p>Caius nodded. “Good.”</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>Renata’s lessons were a lot easier than Caius’ lessons. At least at first—when she was only having me move my shield away from my mind. But they got a bit more difficult as time went on.</p>
<p>After it was clear that I could move my shield back to and away from my own head, easily, we’d tried to relocate it to another person’s mind—to protect their head instead of mine. And that, I was frustrated to realize, was a lot harder.</p>
<p>My shield was naturally averse to touching anyone’s brain that wasn’t mine. It kept bouncing away, like I was trying to force the wrong ends of magnets together. And whoever I was trying to force the shield <em>into</em>—no matter who they were—said, whenever I managed to get my shield to stick to their mind for more than a second, that it was uncomfortably ticklish. That it made their brain feel smothered and itchy.</p>
<p>But eventually I was able to get the hang of it. Able to make the shimmering red veil of silk I pictured in my head slip comfortably around someone else’s brain, and hold it snuggly, protectively, in it’s grasp. Able to make it not feel wrong and itchy. Able to hold it there for at least thirty minutes.</p>
<p>And strangest of all, able to feel that person’s mind when it was under my shield. Every person I tried my powers on, I could <em>see </em>when my shield closed around their mind. Well, not exactly. It wasn’t something I did with my eyes, for I could still sense it when they were closed. It was more like I had a sixth sense that I could register things with—a sense that made any mind under my shield appear as a hot point of light.</p>
<p>It was fascinating to explore this new sense. I learned this sense was strangely unimpacted by distance. I could sense any vampires under my shield just as clearly from across the room as I could standing right next to them. And I also learned each vampire had a unique cadence or flavor to their mind—an essence, Demetri had called it. Which was what he must use to track them.</p>
<p>Though, while I played with my powers, under Renata’s patient guidance, I realized there were several big problems. The first was, if I was protecting someone else, I was wide open. Which I couldn’t imagine would be very helpful on the battlefield. After all, how long could it take for the enemy to realize what was going on and attack me? And once they did, how long would it take to kill me?</p>
<p>I knew that was part of why Caius was training me to fight—so I would survive longer out there. But if I didn’t even have the advantage of my mental shield, how long could I last? It was really my only trump card. And if Alice’s words were anything to go by, I assumed our enemy had some mental gifts on their side that I would need to thwart. Gifts that could be used against me when I was guarding someone else.</p>
<p>I wasn’t sure how Alice thought I was going to protect everyone in the upcoming battle. Or really how that was supposed to stop the calamity that was going to befall us all if I didn’t succeed. But I was hoping that she had some kind of plan besides forcing me to play a very complicated version of whack-a-mole. And that once she’d narrowed down our list of suspects, she would share it with me. </p>
<p>I figured she must have some reason for not telling me yet. That her omission was deliberate rather than accidental. But I wasn’t sure what that reason was.</p>
<p>
  <em>Maybe she thinks I am not ready yet?</em>
</p>
<p>Whatever the case was, I trusted Alice’s judgement.</p>
<p>But I hated being in the dark.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>Italian lessons with Heidi were probably the easiest of all. I memorized the entire English-to-Italian dictionary in the first week. Pronunciation took a bit longer to perfect, since my mouth wasn’t physically used to making those shapes. But in only two weeks I sounded just as fluent as everyone else, and we were able to switch our weekly progress-report meetings over to Italian without worrying about leaving me in the dust.</p>
<p>There were a lot of Italian-specific terms the Volturi had for things. Not just <em>la tua cantante</em> but hundreds of other phrases they’d coined over the centuries that just didn’t quite translate into English. So, things ran a lot smoother when the Volturi were allowed to speak their Lingua Franca.</p>
<p>In informal settings, or one-on-one meetings, sometimes English was still used. Neither Aro, Marcus or Caius seemed to mind using it during our lessons. And, of course, Alice would use it when we were alone. But many of the members of the guard were simply more comfortable speaking Italian.</p>
<p>After mastering Italian though, I was curious to see if I could pick up more languages. Heidi knew forty-seven and was working on several more herself—her job as the Volturi’s fisher required her to know as many as possible. So, I asked her what she recommended I learn next, and if she would be willing to help me. At least, until I had enough understanding of how languages worked to teach myself.</p>
<p>Heidi agreed, to my delight. Then she decided that, after Italian—the language I would use most often with the Volturi—and English—the language of international communication—I should learn Mandarin Chinese—the most commonly spoken language in the world. Her logic was sound. So, we got right into it, learning thousands of new characters in our first session, and spending the next few having me practice reading them aloud.</p>
<p>But during one of our lessons, I noticed something strange. While I recited new words from an English to Mandarin dictionary, and Heidi corrected my pronunciation, she lounged across a long, wooden bench. Her head was propped up on her elbow. And she poured over some printed documents.</p>
<p>I leaned forward, curious. Then started to read the documents in her hands. Which was easy, despite their distance, and the fact that they were upside-down from this angle.</p>
<p>But when I read what Heidi was looking at, I drew back in horror and shock. Heidi was pouring over a list of people. And next to each name, age, country of origin and short biography, she had written a little number in red ink. A number I came to realize was the number of people that might realistically care if they went missing. A number which was a big, fat zero for all too many.</p>
<p>It didn’t take long for me to put the pieces together. Heidi was compiling her own list. A list of people to try and lure into the fortress on April 19<sup>th</sup>, so the Volturi could host their monthly meal.</p>
<p>I suddenly felt sick. And the lines of Chinese characters in front of me suddenly looked like gibberish again. I couldn’t focus on them, when I kept picturing all those people filing into the turret room, unaware of the ghastly fate that awaited them.</p>
<p>I could just see their innocent smiling faces, blinking and taking candid pictures, thinking they were on some sort of exotic vacation. And I could picture perfectly their happiness slowly melting into horror as the doors were locked behind them, and the monsters around them began to converge. Began to select their victims and start the feast.</p>
<p>I had to set down the thick book in my lap and focus on not hyperventilating. Heidi didn’t comment. Her face—sour under her luscious waves of mahogany hair—already told me that she knew, or at least had gathered the gist of my thoughts. She let me sit there, frozen in stupefied terror for the rest of our lesson.</p>
<p>And then, when I came by the next night, she simply was gone. She’d left a note on the door informing me she’d left, and our Mandarin lessons would, unfortunately have to stop while she fetched our food.</p>
<p>At first, I hadn’t known what to do with those hours. But when I informed Aro the next morning, he decided to fill the time slot with more training. It gave him a chance to take a break from making the list—which was almost done.</p>
<p>And it also gave Alice a chance to share what she had seen with as many other members of the coven as she could. She used Titania and Lucretia to spread the news, the same way Aro had shared information with me before.</p>
<p>When it was my turn, I wasn’t sure how to feel. In theory, I understood that it was good for us all to be on the same page. But most of the guard shuffled away after their turns, with eyes wide, and bodies quaking in fear. So, I wasn’t sure if I <em>wanted </em>to see. Maybe it would be better for me to be in the dark?</p>
<p>Of course, I didn’t really have a choice. Alice beckoned me forward with a small, white finger. And, since she ranked above me, I couldn’t really say no to that cue.  </p>
<p>So, reluctantly, I stepped forward, with as much grace as I could muster. I couldn’t quite glide in my cloak the way the other Volturi could yet. The best I could manage was an awkward slink.</p>
<p>Then I mentally pushed aside the barrier that normally blocked my mind—a gesture that was now as easy as breathing. And let Lucretia put her tiny hand in mine, completing the chain from Alice, to Titania, to Lucretia, to me.</p>
<p>The memory Alice showed me wasn’t long. I guessed she didn’t feel the need to share every possible outcome with me, the way she had with Aro and Caius. But as soon as the scene leaped into focus, I felt abruptly very grateful that she was only giving me a glimpse.</p>
<p>Blasted, burning skyscrapers rose around me in every direction. Some of them were tilted at odd angles, their very foundations disrupted. Several had fallen over, breaking up the asphalt beneath them and littering the ground with heavy debris. And the few that remained upright pierced the violent orange sunset like great, black daggers.</p>
<p>Helicopters wheeled overhead. Their blades spun and engines roared loudly above as they swept over the city. Bright searchlights shone from bulbs affixed to their fronts, scanning for survivors.</p>
<p>And as they passed, fire rained down from the sky. It showered the crumbled streets, demolished cars, and broken sidewalks in sparks and flames. And some very nearly landed on us.</p>
<p>Whoever’s memory this was coughed and ducked behind a smoldering storefront as one of these cruel, metal machines hovered past. Thick plumes of smoke filled the sky and a strange, holographic dust which looked like the powder of crushed diamonds clogged the air. The desolate city was totally silent except for the whirring of approaching helicopter blades, and the faint crackling of flames.</p>
<p>We waited, with bated breath as the helicopter whirled closer. Their blinding searchlights narrowly missed us as we hid amid the burning rubble. And when the awful sound of its chopping blades had finally faded to a dull hum, we broke out of our hiding place.</p>
<p>We ran through the rubble desperately. Suddenly, screams pierced the air all around us. And we added our own cries to the cacophony of terror, as we went.</p>
<p>I recognized the voice that felt like it was coming out of my lips. <em>Alice’s voice. </em></p>
<p>So, these were her memories. Or rather, her visions of the future.  </p>
<p>But Alice wasn’t screaming in pain like the others around her. Instead she was calling out a name—Jasper’s name—over and over.</p>
<p>They’d been separated in the chaos, I realized. And she was desperate for some affirmation, no matter how minute, that he was still alive.</p>
<p>She vaulted gracefully over a large pile of cracked concrete and broken glass, and kept moving, her eyes switching frantically across the disastrous landscape as she ran. There were bodies trapped underneath the rubble here and there—only an errant arm or leg visible under the enormous piles of debris.</p>
<p>Most of them were bleeding—a clear sign that they weren’t who she was looking for. But a few limbs were the pale, bloodless type she sought. And of these few, some of the appendages twitched, still living. But others were eerily still.</p>
<p>She didn’t pause to examine the bodies or try and wrench the wriggling ones free of their rocky prisons. There was no time for that. So, she kept moving, her eyes flickering quickly from one to the next. Searching. Praying. Hoping.</p>
<p>Alice recognized them all—a startling realization. I had not imagined that, even with her superior memory, she would be able to name every immortal body we encountered without seeing their faces. And as Alice searched, she felt an appalling combination of dread and relief as she noticed that <em>his</em> body was not among the dead and dying she had happened across so far.</p>
<p>She paused at the end of the decimated street and cried his name again, as loud as she dared with the helicopters still circling overhead.</p>
<p>But like always, there was no response.</p>
<p>The smoke rising in thick, dark columns around us burned her nose and throat. And the diamond dust floating through the air stung her eyes. But she still couldn’t cry. That human capability was lost to her forever.</p>
<p>She mouthed his name forlornly now. Then, to my alarm, she shook an angry fist at the orange sky and cursed me directly.</p>
<p>“None of this was supposed to happen, Bella!” she screamed. “No one was supposed to die! We only changed you to prevent <em>this </em>very outcome! If Jasper is dead because of you…”</p>
<p>Lucretia’s tiny hand released mine suddenly, cutting off the memory in its tracks. And when I got my bearings again, back in my usual body, I exhaled in shock. And felt even more resolve to help. In whatever way I could.  </p>
<p>I absolutely could not let that future come true.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>After my lessons were over, I always went to my room. But the longer my training dragged on, the more I began to believe that those few hours of reprieve were, in fact, the opposite.</p>
<p>I didn’t get physically tired any more. I didn’t have to sleep. So, all I could do was sit on the bed and stare at the ceiling. And being left alone with my own thoughts, I quickly found, was not a good thing.</p>
<p>My memory was perfect now. And I found, when I left my mind to wander, that it reveled in the most disgusting of things.</p>
<p>Like the way my first victim's terrified, flailing hands had slapped powerlessly against my rock-hard grip during my first feed. The way their scalding flesh had slickened with fearful sweat. How the pitch of their gasping, desperate howls had grown higher as my teeth sank into their flimsy neck. And how eerily limp their corpse had suddenly become in my frigid arms once I’d drank enough of their blood.</p>
<p>And although such things horrified my gentle heart, the savage creature newly born inside of me was thrilled. Perhaps even <em>aroused</em> by these vicious thoughts.</p>
<p>I tried not to sink into despair whenever my unhelpful brain decided to take me down a thirsty memory lane. Tried not to let the horrible images fill me with guilt. I knew it wasn’t really avoidable. Even <em>Carlisle </em>had felt these same cruel, violent feelings from time to time. But I still hated myself for feeling that way. Even when I knew that it wasn't really my fault.</p>
<p>It wasn’t like I could just be <em>okay </em>with it all of a sudden.  </p>
<p>To avoid the grisly images, I tried reminiscing about my human life. Although my memories of it were hazy, murky, and many included the "vegetarian" coven, they were a relatively safe place to be. There I only had to struggle with petty things. Like whether I would make an utter fool of myself at prom. Or whether my fastly-flourishing friendship with Jacob was a betrayal of Edward.</p>
<p>Nothing like wondering how on earth I would cope when the time came for my next meal. I shuddered, just considering the prospect. That was a whole new level of horrible.</p>
<p>Sometimes, I even went so far as to try and trick myself into thinking I was still human. After all, humans didn’t have to worry about any of the awful things that plagued me now. But it was hard to forget that I was a vampire with all the constant reminders.</p>
<p>If Alice hadn’t been around to help me, I knew I would have shredded my clothes trying to take them off. The few times she’d let me try had been disastrous—I’d ripped everything to ribbons.</p>
<p>And even with her help, I couldn’t avoid destroying things. On the rare occasion I decided to use my free time to explore the castle, I accidentally crushed every door knob I touched with my powerful fingers. And I finally understood why the desk in Aro’s etiquette training room was broken in half. I’d been responsible for more broken furniture than I could count.   </p>
<p>In fact, it was so bad that Aro had put a blanket ban on the library. I wasn’t to go through its doors until he gained evidence that I wouldn’t make anything I touched disintegrate in my hands. An order I hadn’t felt the slightest inclination to protest.</p>
<p>He was right. I was a <em>menace.</em> </p>
<p>But really, it was the minor things that made it impossible to maintain the delusion that I was still mortal. Like when I caught my flawless, red-eyed reflection in the mirror. Or when I realized one afternoon that I hadn't blinked in days. Or when I tried, out of habit, to go to sleep, only to discover that I neither possessed the desire, nor capacity. Or when I touched something that was once freezing cold, but now felt much warmer.</p>
<p>These little things added up. Cementing into my brain my new identity. My identity as a monster.</p>
<p>One particularly egregious incident was when I tripped all the way down a spiral staircase leading into the catacombs and escaped completely unscathed. That had been a doozy. I wasn’t any more coordinated as an immortal, it seemed. The flawless grace everyone else possessed must be the result of hundreds of years of practice.</p>
<p>But I’d been confused when my tumble down some stone steps didn’t give me a concussion. And while a part of me was grateful to be spared the pain. I felt a strange longing for the sensation anyway. The pain, at least, would have meant I was still human.  </p>
<p>Through it all, though she was very busy making preparations of her own, Alice was very helpful. She not only helped me change my clothes, but also offered emotional support whenever my stupid, newborn brain decided it wanted to think about my first victim again.</p>
<p>She explained to me one night, while I was going through a particularly bad rehash—a flash of violent cruel memories I couldn’t stop—that what I was experiencing was very normal. That I’d been through something I still considered traumatic. And until I could accept it completely, I would be plagued by these vivid, waking nightmares.</p>
<p>I didn’t understand how that was supposed to help. Why my new brain and body thought it was a good idea to make me relive the horror every night.</p>
<p>
  <em>Why yes, that’s exactly what I need when I’m trying to radically alter my moral framework.</em>
</p>
<p>Not.</p>
<p>And it certainly didn’t help that my emotions had gotten more intense. That everything I found a little uncomfortable as a human was absolutely unbearable as a vampire.</p>
<p>Had it been possible, I would have wept every night. But my eyes wouldn’t produce proper tears anymore—the venom that had replaced them would only sting inside my eyes. So instead, I just released choked, dry sobs into Alice’s shoulder, as we sat together on the bed, and she patted my back consolingly.</p>
<p>It was a pathetic routine. One I was glad no one besides Alice got to see. I couldn’t imagine the rest of the Volturi would be impressed with the way I shook, and sometimes even clawed at my own skin in self-loathing, having to be restrained by Alice before I could tear anything off.</p>
<p>Immortality was supposed to be awesome… And yet during those first few weeks, I spent most of my free time holed up in my room, trying to fool myself into believing it hadn’t happened.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>One night, Alice broke our sad routine to briefly sneak back into Forks. She did it both to retrieve some of my things, and to give some suitable excuse to Charlie for my indefinite absence. She wouldn't tell me what she'd told him just yet. Only that he still believed I was alive and would continue to contact me. And when she returned, Alice filled the lush carpet of my new room with boxes of my old stuff.</p>
<p>Which was both wonderfully considerate of her. And paradoxically painful.</p>
<p>Everything Alice had brought back, from the silly old photo album I'd put together before Edward had left, to my favorite CDs, and my much-beloved laptop, was comfortingly familiar. But everything was also still faintly covered in my human scent. Which I was disturbed to find extremely mouthwatering, despite its weakness.</p>
<p>Aro had said before that the blood that most appealed to us was that which was similar to our human blood. But it was jarring to thirst for my former self just the same.</p>
<p>There was also the fact that I didn't really trust myself to handle any of my old possessions for very long, given my excellent track record with destroying things. And so, without opening my computer or my phone, I had no idea if Charlie had tried to contact me yet.</p>
<p>Instead, I mostly just stared at the last remnants of my human life, sitting untouched in travel-scuffed cardboard boxes next to my four-poster bed. And fought back unshedable-vampire-tears as I remembered everything I had left behind.</p>
<p>I had sacrificed so much. Renee, and Charlie I would probably never see ever again, and I hadn't even been able to give them a proper goodbye. My human friends too—Angela, Jessica, Mike… I wondered what Charlie would tell them about why I suddenly disappeared. What would they think of me for abandoning them so suddenly? Would they miss me at all?</p>
<p>And Jacob—I guess technically as a member of the "supernatural community" as the Volturi called it, he<em> could</em> be in the know without being given the ultimatum to be changed or die. But knowing that my recent dietary choices would likely destroy everything positive we had once shared, I probably had to give him and the whole Quileute wolf-pack up too.</p>
<p>I had to be careful not to bite my lip too hard in frustration—I could saw through my entire lower lip now if I wasn't careful. But I would miss them: Seth, Leah, Quil, Embry, Paul…. Even Sam, if only because his was a familiar face that I associated with Jacob. With being human. With feeling sane.</p>
<p>As I counted my losses that night, I built up an abundance of venom in my eyes—creating a thick, filmy white veil over my vision that never went away. At least, not until the sun rose. And I had to face the others again.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>In the days leading up to April 19<sup>th</sup> I tried to take some solace in the knowledge that most vampires typically adjusted to their new morals in a handful of months. There were a few outliers of course. And others that were hard to place because of extenuating circumstances. Like the newborns involved in Carlisle's experiments, who had spent their first months being forced to drink animal blood. Or Aro’s daughters, who had never been raised to think killing human beings was wrong.</p>
<p>But the general timetable still stood. So, if I was a typical vampire, I should only have at most another few months of this.</p>
<p>But that wasn’t as comforting of a thought as it should have been. When had I ever been a typical <em>anything</em>?</p>
<p>How could I know I wouldn’t become one of those vampires who spent too long hating themselves for eating people, and as a result had a hard time ever letting go of those feelings?</p>
<p>I knew already that I wasn’t going to be one of those who let go of those destructive emotions faster than average and embraced their inner animal. And it was a small comfort that I would likely, end up nothing like Caius or Jane as a result.</p>
<p>But the other end of the spectrum was just as dangerous.</p>
<p>I didn’t dare let my feelings show when I participated in activities with the rest of the guard. I had an inkling that the more sadistic members of the Volturi would roll their eyes. Which would only make me more furious.</p>
<p>But as I sat alone in my rooms each night leading up to the monthly meal, I still worried. About Charlie, and the rest of those I’d abandoned back home, and how they were coping with my absence. About how I was going to live up to Alice’s lofty expectations. About Aro’s suspicions, and Marcus’ strange behavior on my first day—things that added up in my mind to mean the Volturi leaders suspected a traitor among either their current or former members.</p>
<p>But most of all, I worried about my future.</p>
<p>I’d killed one man. But I wasn’t sure how well I was going to handle killing a second. And as I stared into still vividly crimson eyes in the mirror on the morning of April 19<sup>th</sup>’, I felt a current of fear race down my spine.</p>
<p>I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t adjusted to being a killer yet.</p>
<p>I wasn’t ready to kill again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you're enjoying this story, or want to offer any critiques or wild speculation about what might happen next, I'm all ears. I love hearing from my readers!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>CHAPTER SIX: RETURN</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>
  <em>They [the Volturi] don’t leave. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>They bring their food from the outside, from quite far away sometimes. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It gives their guard something to do when they’re not out annihilating mavericks. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Or protecting Volterra from exposure.</em>
</p>
<p>- Alice, New Moon, Chapter 19 </p>
<p>…</p>
<p>Alice sat on the bed until the sun was peaking over the horizon outside. As soon as she felt its heat beating through the ceiling stones, she rose from the dark duvet, and spun to face me.</p>
<p>She was dressed as impeccably as usual. She wore a short, black, double-breasted trench coat like a dress, with semi-opaque tights underneath, and inky, stiletto-heeled boots. Her Volturi pendant glittered over her chest. And on top of everything, she’d thrown her pitch-black cloak.</p>
<p>She looked great. And she’d dressed me equally well, although, with some concession for my personal taste. Instead of a dress, or a coat, she’d put me in darkwash jeans. Instead of heeled boots, I’d been afforded cute, black ballet flats. And over another frilly shirt—she did like putting me in those, no matter what I said—she’d thrown on a chunky, blood-red, military-style jacket.</p>
<p>Of course, I too wore the same necklace as she. And my whole ensemble was buried somewhat under my, slightly lighter, black cloak. I still wasn’t sure if that ruined the effect or not. Alice always seemed to make her own ensembles work with the required Volturi attire. Though, I imagined she could have taken a wet newspaper and turned it into a cute fashion accessory.</p>
<p>When she stood up, showing off her new outfit, I was standing in the bathroom, peering into my beautiful, but still disconcertingly alien reflection in the mirror. The door was open, so I saw her move, out of the corner of my eye—in tack sharp focus. Something, that even after all this time, still surprised me. </p>
<p>“Bella?” she called, as I scrutinized my too-symmetrical features. They looked even more unfamiliar than usual under the layer of expensive makeup Alice had applied just moments before.</p>
<p>I looked up from the silvery glass, and turned to face her, my feet shifting over the cold bathroom tile. “Yes?”</p>
<p>"Heidi is going to be back soon so… um, we should get going." Alice made a limp gesture toward the door. And I nearly jumped out of my skin.</p>
<p>“But my eyes they’re not even—!” I started to protest, gesturing frantically toward my own irises.</p>
<p>They hadn’t even noticeably dimmed from my first feed yet. Unlike Alice’s irises, which were already a deep burgundy.</p>
<p>Alice shook her head. “Normally, I’d let you sit this one out. Aro is probably going to, since his power doesn’t put too much of a strain on his body. And most of the others with mental powers or no powers will probably not partake as well. But you need to feed this time, Bella.”</p>
<p>I looked at Alice even more quizzically. “But my power is mental too?” I pointed out.</p>
<p>Alice shrugged noncommittally. “Sure, sure,” she said, playing it off. “But your last meal wasn’t exactly… um… <em>complete</em>… so…”</p>
<p>She worded it as delicately as she could. But I still winced.</p>
<p>She was right. Thanks to my inexpert attempt to be merciful, at least half of my first victim’s blood had ended up on the floor. So even if, under normal circumstances, I was one of the vampires who only needed to feed every other month, like Aro and most other vampires with mental powers or no powers at all, it would probably be good to feed this month again, anyway, since my last meal had been smaller than it ought to be.</p>
<p>It was sound logic. I had to acknowledge that.</p>
<p>But that didn’t mean I had to like it. Or that I had to agree with it.</p>
<p>“But my eyes—!” I protested again.</p>
<p>
  <em>Weren’t they the gauge I should be using to measure my thirst? Wouldn’t they tell me if I was thirsty?</em>
</p>
<p>Alice interrupted me again. “—Are still bright red, yeah. I can see that. I’m not blind, Bella,” she huffed. “But you’re a newborn. You’ve still got a lot of human blood in your tissues. So your eyes aren’t going to be very reliable for a while.”</p>
<p>I blinked, stunned at this bit of news. “They aren’t?”</p>
<p>Alice shook her head. “Not until the extra strength wears off. And, well as long as you stay well fed, that’s not going to happen until sometime next year.”</p>
<p>I swallowed.</p>
<p>I knew, in the greater scheme of things, that a year wasn’t very long. That a year was barely a blip on the radar of most vampire’s lives.</p>
<p>But with how much more processing power my new brain had, my perfect memory, and how I didn’t have to sleep anymore, this first month had already felt longer than the entire last year. So, another year like <em>this </em>seemed especially daunting.</p>
<p>Like I was staring into a black hole.</p>
<p>Realizing Alice was still looking at me expectantly, waiting for an answer, I blinked rapidly, bringing myself back to the present. And mulled over my options, in light of what Alice had just said.</p>
<p>“You’re sure I’ll be thirsty when I get there?” I asked, scratching the outside of my throat experimentally.</p>
<p>Though I’d felt some heat flare up in it a few times over the last week—when I’d caught traces of my human scent on my old possessions, or remembered my first feed—my throat didn’t even feel dry today. And that made me uneasy. I didn’t want to kill any more people than I strictly had to.</p>
<p>Alice regarded me with surprise. “You’re not thirsty yet?”</p>
<p>I shook my head. “At least, I don’t feel it right now,” I stipulated, in case there was some reason for that. Hell, if I knew.</p>
<p>Alice tapped her chin in thought for a quarter of a second. Then, abruptly came to a decision.</p>
<p>“We’ll see how you feel when Heidi brings the humans in. If you’re able to resist them—you can wait until next month to feed,” she offered, to soothe my fears. “But if not… well, follow your instincts. They’re smart, you know.”</p>
<p>I grimaced a bit at this. I <em>did </em>know. All too well.</p>
<p>My stomach did nervous flip flops as I remembered how <em>easy</em> it had been for Carlisle to hunt for the first time. How he’d already known, without thinking, how to do all of it. And how, though I’d screwed things up a bit by thinking too hard, my body was essentially the same.</p>
<p>But, though the knowledge of what I might do when Heidi brought in all those humans made me feel a little sick, I nodded anyway. Alice was right.</p>
<p>She and Aro had been very careful not to let me within smelling range of any humans since my transformation. So maybe that was the secret to my lack of thirst.</p>
<p>But if my instincts kicked in as soon as the scent of Heidi’s monthly batch reached my nostrils, that probably meant I was thirsty. And that I should, for my own health’s sake, do whatever was necessary to quench that thirst.</p>
<p>Alice nodded back. And I did my best to force my disturbed expression into a straight face.</p>
<p>“Let’s go,” Alice said.</p>
<p>She turned around and danced out the door of my room before I could add any more protests. I followed her out a fraction of second later, my shuffling legs nowhere near as graceful as her ballerina-like movements, even if they could now match her speed.   </p>
<p>We walked together through the long winding corridors in silence. Until we reached the secret panel in the wall. The panel that concealed the turret room from the outside world.</p>
<p>I now had a little better idea of why the Volturi hid this room. Best not to let any building inspectors with black lights come snooping around. The Volturi routinely treated the floor with bleach. But they could have missed a spot or two, over the centuries.</p>
<p>As Alice slid the little, secret door aside, and gestured for me to go ahead of her, that understanding really didn’t make me feel any better, though. If anything, it only made me feel worse.</p>
<p>What the Volturi were about to do was so horrible, so heinous, it could never be allowed to see the light of day. And, if Alice’s predictions about my newborn thirst were correct—and I seriously doubted they weren’t—I was about to be doing it right along with them.</p>
<p>I was about to murder someone.</p>
<p>Again.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>When Alice and I walked through the little stone antechamber beyond the panel into the turret room proper, I couldn’t help but stop and suck in a little breath of surprise. The rest of the room looked radically different than it had in my human memories.</p>
<p>It wasn’t that anything had actually changed. I’d visited this room often enough during our marching drills to know that. The curved walls and depressed floor were the same shape. And the window slits carved high in the walls of the large stone turret still cast thin, bright rectangles onto the floor just as before.</p>
<p>But to my vampire eyes the whole turret room was a lot brighter. Every surface I recalled being dim and indistinguishable in my human memory was now luminous and clear. So, clear I could see every tiny imperfection in the cinnamon brown stones. Every thin, hair-like crack. Every microscopic speck of dust. Every minute stain…</p>
<p>And it was a lot warmer too. I’d been freezing when I’d visited as a human—and only some of that could be attributed to how damp I’d been from running through the fountain. But today the thin rays of light filtering in filled the entire room with a subtle warm glow. A glow I could feel in my skin. Just like how I could feel the sun rise when I was in my room, despite the absence of any windows. Only in here, where the tall room actually penetrated the surface, it was much stronger.</p>
<p>It made me feel like I had been transported to an alien world. And now I thought I understood why the Volturi hadn’t bothered to equip most of their castle with electricity. Dim candlelight was plenty bright for me to see by now. And direct sunlight, even in limited doses like this was a bit much.</p>
<p>If the Volturi had installed fluorescents everywhere…</p>
<p>My eyes squeezed shut in sympathetic pain. I could only imagine what <em>that</em> would be like. </p>
<p>When I opened my eyes again, I fixed them on Alice as she floated towards the back of the room. I hurried to catch up—she’d put quite the distance between us while I’d been distracted. And when I got close enough, I counted the time between each <em>clack </em>of her heeled boots striking the stone floor so I could match her pace.</p>
<p>I focused on the swirling, dark fibers of her cloak, until I got it perfect. Once I was confident that I wasn’t going to accidentally crash into Alice’s back, I relegated my focus on maintaining our annoyingly slow pace to a back burner in my mind, and I lifted my eyes. As they took in the room ahead, I realized, right away, that we weren’t alone. Three dark figures were congregated, to my right, against the curving wall.    </p>
<p>I recognized them instantly—Corin, Chelsea, Vera. The vampires in the Volturi guard who had physical powers. Vampires whose eyes all looked as dark as Alice’s. Or, in Vera’s case, much darker.</p>
<p>They weren’t the only ones here, though.</p>
<p>Despite Alice’s insistence that he was going to sit this meal out, Aro was seated, along the very middle of the back wall, in the center throne. His brother Caius sat a few feet to his left. And Marcus sat to his right. Their usual formation. </p>
<p>I spent a moment studying them. Their faces were so impassive, and their bodies so still, that they looked more like austere statues than living beings. And they were all dressed in heavy, black robes again, the way they’d been when I’d first arrived a month ago. Though I doubted they were the exact same ones, even if they looked equally expensive. I’d drenched those robes in blood.</p>
<p>Each of the three leaders was flanked by their pair of personal bodyguards, standing next to them on the raised stone dais that elevated the thrones a few feet above the rest of the floor. I guessed, from the way the six vampires lingered back against the wall, and didn’t breathe, that they weren’t participating in today’s feast either. But had stayed near their masters in case of an emergency.</p>
<p>The wives weren’t here. But, as my eyes scanned the back of the room, I noticed Aro’s twin daughters—Lucretia and Titania—were present. They sat on the dais steps leading up to the three thrones. Though they didn’t sit still of course. Instead, they fidgeted supernaturally fast while they played with their mangled lead blocks again.</p>
<p>I wasn’t sure why<em> they </em>were here. I couldn’t imagine, from their diminutive size, that they possessed enough restraint to not participate in the feast. But, like the last time they’d fed, their eyes were still the same bright crimson hue as mine. And I wondered again what that meant.</p>
<p>
  <em>Had their previous meal not been enough?</em>
</p>
<p>If they were feeding again today, that would mean they were feeding monthly, instead of bi-monthly, even though their eyes suggested, like their father’s that they didn’t <em>need</em> to. But their last meal… well…</p>
<p>…they <em>had</em> shared it.</p>
<p>I grimaced as the murky memory of the man’s death resurfaced in my mind. And as I fought the grisly images off, I had to wonder. <em>Are their eyes unreliable too, since they are born vampires, rather than made ones?</em></p>
<p>I couldn’t be sure. But as I watched the pair, I considered another variable—their restraint. Fifty years old was still quite young for a vampire. So maybe Aro had decided that keeping them well fed, was better than allowing them to thirst and possibly act rashly as a result. Especially since he wanted his secretaries and maids to survive long enough to be useful to him.</p>
<p>I shivered. It was cold, but practical. Like always.  </p>
<p>But for my mental health’s sake, I tried not to think about it too hard. Instead, my eyes swept around the room, looking for any other vampires. I wanted to know who else was going to be feeding with me today. After all, I didn’t want to accidentally get in Felix or Santiago’s way.</p>
<p>I knew, from firsthand experience with their fighting prowess, how that would turn out.</p>
<p>But as my eyes turned and swept across the rest of the bright room, I realized they weren’t here. Nor were any of the other members of the guard. Not even the bodyguards. The rest of the Volturi were sitting this one out, I guessed.</p>
<p>I tried not to let that bother me. Tried to remember what Alice had said—that if I wasn’t thirsty, I didn’t have to participate. That I could do what I assumed Aro was going to do. That is, simply watch as the gruesome scene unfolded.</p>
<p>But I was distracted very soon after that thought had crossed my mind. While I followed Alice across the room, I stepped into one of the thin rectangles of light. Then I caught a sudden, new glinting in the corner of my eye that made me pause. And as I inclined my head downwards towards it, I inhaled in shock.</p>
<p>The skin of my own hand was glittering like a thousand tiny diamonds were embedded in its surface. I blinked twice, lost for words. Then, after a moment to stupefied silence, I squinted and twisted my fingers around experimentally to make sure they were still mine.</p>
<p>Sure, I’d caught my skin glittering a few times before, in the bright white lights of my personal bathroom. But it was nothing like what I saw now that my hand was exposed to direct sunlight. The bathroom lights had caused my skin to issue a faint glimmer. But now I was sparkling up a storm, throwing dazzling, eight-color-rainbow light everywhere.</p>
<p>After a few seconds of staring at myself, I recoiled from the light, drawing my hand safely back into the darkness, where it belonged. It was indisputably beautiful. But I couldn’t help but think, in light of what I now knew, that it was <em>dangerous </em>too.</p>
<p>If humanity saw me like this, they would immediately know I was different. And that observation would lead them to eventually discover the truth. That I was a vampire. And that we were their predators.</p>
<p>And that was a truth that humanity would not accept. A truth they would instead seek to destroy us in order to falsify. At least, according to Alice.</p>
<p>I shuddered involuntarily as I remembered what she had shown me. All those burning buildings. The broken streets. The bodies, both human and vampire, trapped under the smoking rubble….</p>
<p>I really hoped that I could be the savior Alice needed me to be. That I could be successful in preventing humanity from ever knowing about us. Because if I couldn’t…</p>
<p>…we were all royally screwed.</p>
<p>After a brief pause in the light, I began moving again, trotting behind Alice like a lost child. She paused after another few seconds. And again, I copied her, arresting momentum directly in front of the three thrones.</p>
<p>When we came to a stop, the three women standing against the wall off to my right turned to look at us. Corin gave me an impassive nod, wearing an expression that neither looked especially friendly, nor particularly hostile. She was shy and cautious by nature. So, I didn’t think she meant me any ill will.</p>
<p>But the same couldn’t be said of Vera, who glowered darkly at me. Or Chelsea, who, in addition to having eyes like daggers, had two white fists balled at her sides.  </p>
<p>She, for whatever reason, didn’t like me. But I couldn’t figure it out.</p>
<p>
  <em>Is she still upset that Aro had given me a place one step above her in his hierarchy? Or is this about the numerous sparring matches I’d won against her and her mate? Or the countless times I’d stepped on her cloak during formation practice? Or perhaps, one of the many other mistakes I’d made in the last month?</em>
</p>
<p>I wasn’t sure what had triggered the light-brown-haired woman’s temper. But I resolved, then and there, to do everything I could to make it up to her. She’d helped me out a lot, after all—separating me from the moribund tether shackling me to Edward. So, if possible, I wanted to return the favor somehow. Not piss her off.</p>
<p>But before I could formulate a coherent plan, Alice unexpectedly spoke, jolting me out of my thoughts.</p>
<p>“So, do you think you’ll be alright today?” she asked carefully. “Do you think you’ll be alright feeding this time? You won’t be able to snap your victim’s neck. We all know how that went <em>last time.</em> So you’ll have to… you know…” she hesitated, searching for the appropriately delicate words, “…feed from prey that’s still alive. Twitching, and all that.”</p>
<p>When she finished, she gave a demonstrative wiggle of one hand that made me want to be sick. </p>
<p>Okay, maybe not so sensitive. But Alice couldn’t remember her human life. So maybe I ought to cut her some slack.</p>
<p>“…Oh God, I don’t know,” I admitted.</p>
<p>My mind vividly conjured up the scenario Alice had so candidly described. A human shrieking and flailing underneath me as I guzzled blood from their neck.</p>
<p>And all of a sudden—though my stomach was empty—I had to cover my mouth with one hand so I didn’t throw up. I wasn’t sure what <em>that</em> was about. But I didn’t take it as a good sign.</p>
<p>Maybe I should back out… before I dredged up some venomy equivalent of bile?</p>
<p>Before I could take a single step, however, Alice’s tiny arms shot out and caught my shoulders, forcing me back. “No, you’re not backing out of this,” she declared resolutely. </p>
<p>I groaned. “Why not? I’m <em>not</em> thirsty,” I stressed.</p>
<p>Alice crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t know that for sure. Not until you smell human blood. Your thirst might flare up suddenly then.”</p>
<p>My eyebrows shot up at that. “Really?”</p>
<p>Alice nodded. “Our thirst isn’t quite the same as human hunger. I’ve heard humans get hungry like clockwork. But if we stay completely isolated from humans, our thirst doesn’t bother us nearly as quickly as it does when we’re surrounded by them.”</p>
<p>“Another evolutionary advantage?” I guessed.</p>
<p>Alice nodded. “If humans are in short supply, it makes sense to limit our appetites. But that doesn’t mean you won’t still need the nutrition.”  </p>
<p>My breath picked up then. “So, what you’re saying is… if I can stand not to feed when I smell them, then I don’t actually need the nutrients. But if I can’t…?”</p>
<p>I trailed off, unable to finish that sentence. Alice patted my shoulder affectionately while I hyperventilated.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, it’ll all work out,” she assured me. “I can’t read your thoughts. But I have an idea of what you’re thinking. And—” she held up a hand to silence me before I could interrupt, “—whatever you do today—even if you <em>do</em> have to hunt—you don’t have to hate yourself for it.”</p>
<p>She reached out with her little pale fingers to try and pat me comfortingly on the back. But I didn’t want her comfort. She didn’t understand what I was feeling at all.</p>
<p>“I would hate myself even more if I didn’t hate myself…” I rebutted through gritted teeth.</p>
<p>Alice’s face warped into a confused expression. She tapped one finger lightly against her pouty red lips. And tilted her head slightly to the left.</p>
<p>“That doesn’t make any sense.”</p>
<p>I threw up my hands up dramatically in exasperation. “No, it doesn’t. But that’s where I’m at, okay?!”</p>
<p>I snarled viciously at Alice. Even if she was right, it was ridiculous of her to expect me to completely divorce all negative feelings from feeding. It was only my second time. And it was an awful, gory activity. So, if I didn’t hate myself for doing it, that made me an awful person.</p>
<p>At least, that’s how I felt.</p>
<p>But unfortunately, I’d been a little too loud. My voice drew the attention of almost every vampire in the room. And they looked on our argument with mistrustful, disapproving eyes.</p>
<p>Alice panicked a bit upon seeing everyone looking this way. It wouldn’t do for me to look any more reluctant to participate in the upcoming feast than necessary.</p>
<p>“Shhh…” Alice rushed to save face, holding a finger against her lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”</p>
<p>I shook my head both in disbelief that their opinions mattered more than mine. Then held up a hand—a signal that I wanted this conversation to be over.</p>
<p>Alice immediately shut up, leaving us to stand in awkward, tense silence. And while she pouted, wringing her petite hands, as if she really regretted speaking so insensitively towards me, I listened to the trio of vampire women, standing off to my right, huddled together against the wall.</p>
<p>They had started conversing animatedly with one another. And what I heard didn’t make me feel very good. They were speaking in Italian. But I was fluent now. So, whether they’d intended their remarks to be secrete or not, my brain automatically translated everything they had to say.</p>
<p>“<em>She’s the one who is prophesied to protect us, and she can’t even stomach the death of a <strong>single human</strong></em><em>?</em>” Vera hissed.</p>
<p>Chelsea snorted. “<em>Some savior</em>.”</p>
<p>And to my alarm, even shy Corin joined in on the ribbing. “<em>She really isn’t ready for the demands of immortality, is she</em>?” she jibed.</p>
<p>I gritted my teeth. Then I shot Aro, sitting on his throne, a desperate look. A silent plea for assistance.</p>
<p>He caught my glance immediately. And seemed sympathetic. But just as Aro looked ready to intervene—to intercede with a good word on my behalf—we were all unexpectedly interrupted.</p>
<p>There was a quiet knock, a gentle rapping against the exterior wall several feet away, followed by the almost imperceptible sound of stealthy footsteps. Then another knock somewhat closer. And more footsteps, as though whoever was roaming around outside was searching for the secret entrance to this room. But wasn’t quite sure exactly where to find it. And thus, had to listen to the hollow echo in order to determine where it was.</p>
<p>All bodies in this room, including mine stiffened as the soft strikes against the outside paneling grew increasingly near. And at first, I wondered why Aro didn’t send someone out there to tell his secretary to cut it out. Until I caught a whiff of that person’s inhuman and distinctly unfamiliar scent.</p>
<p>The person trying to find this room wasn’t one of Aro’s human employees. Nor was it any member of the guard. I recognized all of their scents now. And none of them smelled like eucalyptus and saffron. So, it had to be some other, unknown vampire.</p>
<p>A vampire whose purpose in looking for us couldn’t be known.  </p>
<p>Suddenly, I realized there was another reason to conceal this door. Apparently, there <em>were</em> others who knew how to navigate through the labyrinthine Volturi fortress. And a few flimsy iron locks and human receptionists were hardly enough to stop them.</p>
<p>Realizing at the same time that it could be one of the Volturi’s many enemies, Caius and I both frantically turned to Alice. We silently petitioned her with desperate eyes to reveal who was coming for us.</p>
<p>Neither of us expected her response, however. Alice’s delicately sculpted brows raised. Her painted lips opened in an “o” of surprise. And she momentarily looked horrified. Before suddenly her face erupted into a brilliant smile.</p>
<p>“<em>He’s here</em>!” She chirped happily in Italian. She bounced up and down on her heels and clapped her hands. “<em>Open the door</em>!”</p>
<p>Caius’ face reflected my confusion. Alice hadn’t specified <em>who </em>was here.</p>
<p>And every other chalky face in the room eyed her with skepticism. I guessed they feared she might have betrayed them by leading someone dangerous here to try and overthrow them.</p>
<p>In the moment that followed Alice’s ambiguous remark however, the intruder suddenly found the panel which concealed the plain wooden entrance door. They slid it hastily aside. And slipped into the stone antechamber beyond.</p>
<p>We couldn’t see them yet—they were still obscured behind the narrow walls. But we could hear their footsteps approaching.</p>
<p>In response, Caius immediately lighted from his throne. And once he had descended the steps leading up to the thrones, he adopted a confrontational stance.</p>
<p>I swallowed. That was never a good sign. Then let my eyes flicker away from him to observe the reactions of the bodyguards and the other two leaders.</p>
<p>Ichika and Niko charged forward, snarling with a fury that matched Caius’, and planted themselves defensively in front of him. Renata and Makenna’s sandy faces looked anxious and panicky as they flitted forward to protect their master. Aro, still sitting in his throne behind them, looking equally frightened. Kofe and Wambua were stiff with tension, but didn’t move from their positions. And Marcus was staring straight ahead with the same, unimpassioned boredom as ever.</p>
<p>The three leaders and their bodyguards weren’t the only ones to react, however.</p>
<p>As the unfamiliar vampire walked toward us, their footsteps echoing loudly from the stone antechamber, Titania and Lucretia darted up the small dais steps to cower beside their father’s throne. Corin and Chelsea exchanged worried glances. And Vera glared at me even harder than before. As if she thought this was somehow my fault.</p>
<p>I didn’t know what to feel.</p>
<p>Alice was still beaming like an idiot. Which I hoped meant good things. And not that we were all about to die.</p>
<p>But everyone else either looked petrified with terror, or ready to pounce. Ready to leap into action as soon as whoever it was finally crossed the threshold into forbidden territory.</p>
<p>My legs tensed in preparation to bolt, either towards or away from the enemy….</p>
<p>But just then, a blue jean clad leg stepped out of the antechamber into the room. And as my eyes trailed all the way up the encroaching figure, I stumbled backwards in shock.</p>
<p>
  <em>Jasper?</em>
</p>
<p>It certainly looked like him. He had the same artfully disheveled mop of curly honey blond hair that fell just above his collar. The same strong masculine features. And the same lean, tall build, I remembered from before.</p>
<p>But he looked so different to my new eyes it was hard to be sure.</p>
<p>Was he the same person I’d met in Forks? His eyes, instead of the familiar color of melted gold were a frightening obsidian. The dark circles underneath them were especially pronounced today—a deep, dark grape color, which contrasted so sharply with his pale skin that it made him look like a racoon. And his porcelain skin had a slight greenish tint to it. A hue I’d only seen before in Aro’s memories and was shocked to see in person.</p>
<p>
  <em>So sickly. </em>
</p>
<p>But more shocking than the state of thirst he clearly displayed—and that was very shocking—were all the strange scars I saw covering almost every inch of his exposed skin. The Jasper-look-alike had his shirtsleeves pushed up to his elbows. And across his forearms were a thousand silvery half-moons layered over each other, creating an odd, ridged texture.</p>
<p>It took me a twenty-eighth of a second to realize what I was looking at. And when I did, I gasped in horror.  </p>
<p><em>Vampire bite marks. </em> </p>
<p>Each individual crescent was so faint. But it was impossible, having a scar like that myself, to mistake them for anything else. James’ bite mark on my wrist was the only injury Aro’s venom hadn’t washed away. But even if it had, I would recognize those thirty-two tiny ridges anywhere.</p>
<p>While I stared, stunned in terror, I rationalized this had to be the same Jasper I’d met before. And his scars must simply be faint enough to be invisible to the human eye. Which would explain why I had never noticed them before.</p>
<p>It was the only explanation that made a modicum of sense. After all, Jasper didn’t have a twin.</p>
<p>But still, even with that reassurance I couldn’t stop staring. Particularly at his scars.</p>
<p>As a vampire they all stood out so strongly—his most defining feature. They were very bright where they crisscrossed over his wiry arms—like platinum chains. And they were concentrated especially thick around his neck, making the sliver of skin visible above his turtleneck glow like a violent, neon sign.</p>
<p>As my eyes roved over Jasper again and again, I couldn’t make sense of it. What had <em>happened </em>to him?</p>
<p>I had no idea how anyone, vampire or not, could sustain that many vampire bites. <em>Shouldn’t he be dead?</em></p>
<p>I felt a flash of fear race up my spine. But instead of being scared <em>for </em>Jasper, something about all those little silvery shapes, made me scared <em>of </em>him.</p>
<p><em>Dangerous, </em>they screamed. <em>How many vampires had tried to kill Jasper? As many as had died in the attempt. </em></p>
<p>A collective shudder passed through the room when everyone saw them—those bright, half-circular lines advertising how lethal Jasper was. But before any of the guard could get too anxious, Aro issued a silent ceasefire.</p>
<p>It was a cue I recognized automatically now—the gradual lowering of his hands. And it caused every muscle in the room to relax slightly.</p>
<p>“Dearest Jasper, what brings you here?” Aro inquired in velvety, smooth English.</p>
<p>He rose fluidly from his throne and glided with unnatural ease down the dais steps. His movements were flawless as always. And my gaze broke from Jasper to marvel at them for a moment.</p>
<p>Aro drifted across the circular floor until he was only a few feet away from Jasper. He stopped and looked over the younger vampire riddled in scars curiously.</p>
<p>Jasper shifted nervously in his signature cowboy boots under Aro’s scrutiny. He sought Alice out in the crowd.</p>
<p>She gave him a shallow nod of approval. Then he confidently squared his shoulders, and explained, in a soft voice, tinged with a slight southern accent.</p>
<p>“Sir, I’ve come to be with my lady, of course,” he said. He crossed one arm over his chest and gave the slightest of bows as a gesture of respect and good faith.</p>
<p>It was a sign of submission to the Volturi’s authority. A sign which Aro seemed to accept, given the way the concerned edge lurking beneath his more overt facial expression disappeared.</p>
<p>“Ah yes, Alice did tell me you were considering coming,” Aro recalled with a soft smile. Then he eagerly extended an upturned palm in Jasper’s direction. “May I?”</p>
<p>He was clearly excited with the prospect of obtaining Jasper’s lifetime of thoughts.</p>
<p>Jasper was less enthusiastic about the idea. Though he complied anyway. With no more protest than a slight frown, he slipped his hand gradually atop Aro’s. And then he stood very still, waiting. </p>
<p>Aro intimately entwined their fingers—which made Jasper’s frown deepen. Then he bent over the connection of skin.</p>
<p>The entire room was silent for several minutes as Aro poured over Jasper’s thoughts. But at least it was a rather comfortable silence.</p>
<p>The bodyguards unanimously decided that Jasper no longer posed a threat. So, they dispersed from their battle positions. Corin, Chelsea and Vera all relaxed as soon as the bodyguards were back against the wall. And even Aro’s twin daughters eventually, quietly slinked back down the steps.</p>
<p>We waited for a minute in absolute quiet. Then Aro abruptly detached his hand from Jasper’s. And his head suddenly jerked upwards, his crimson eyes staring deeply into Jasper’s obsidian irises.</p>
<p>“I see that you are rather thirsty,” Aro remarked, his teeth adding a slight hiss to the “s” in <em>thirsty</em>.</p>
<p>Jasper immediately ducked his head, avoiding Aro’s gaze. Then he shuffled uncomfortably in his boots.  </p>
<p>Aro, however, deliberately refused to take the hint. “We are about to feed. If you would like to join us…”</p>
<p>He offered this casually, as though it was a courtesy he extended towards every visitor. Though the shocked looks on Chelsea’s and Caius’ faces betrayed the truth that it was a much bigger deal than he was letting on.</p>
<p>“How do you do it?” Jasper interrupted in a sharp, pained tone. “You see all of their thoughts before you bite them, don’t you? How can you kill when you know them so closely?”</p>
<p>Aro’s polite façade faltered. And his face became heavily overshadowed with a look of lamentation.</p>
<p>“It was not always so easy…” he tentatively admitted. “But it becomes more bearable with time,” he assured Jasper.</p>
<p>But Jasper looked incredulous. “How can it ever get easier? None of our victims <em>want</em> to die.”</p>
<p>Jasper swallowed thickly. Then he blinked rapidly, as though trying to dispel some awful memory.</p>
<p>Alice’s lips curled into an uncertain frown. She didn’t quite seem to know the proper response to her mate’s distress.</p>
<p>“That is true,” Aro acknowledged with a sorrowful nod. Then his mood rapidly shifted. “But that does not mean I cannot bring myself to enjoy it.”</p>
<p>A cruel smirk besmirched Aro’s lips. And his eyes glittered with satisfaction. He obviously liked drinking human blood very much.</p>
<p>Jasper frowned again. Then glanced warily back towards Alice. His expression clearly said <em>you really work for this lunatic now?</em></p>
<p>Alice didn’t react. So Japser reverted his unconvinced gaze towards Aro, waiting for him to continue in his explanation. Waiting for him to explain how he managed to revel in, rather than regret his meals.</p>
<p>Aro pointed at his twin daughters, sitting on the dais steps behind him. “Shall I have my daughters show you how I accomplish this?”</p>
<p>Jasper momentarily looked stunned—more out of a sense that he wasn’t worthy of such an honor than ignorance of what Aro’s daughters could do. But his curiosity won him over in the end.</p>
<p>He slowly nodded.</p>
<p>At Jasper’s gradual movement, the twins darted forward. The luxurious, Victorian-era dresses they were wearing rustled around them, before they abruptly stopped beside their father. Then they immediately began arranging themselves in the familiar formation they had used to share memories with me earlier.</p>
<p>Titania quickly took her father’s lowered palm and seized one of her sister’s hands. Then Lucretia reached out gradually towards Jasper, waiting for him to accept her diminutive hand.</p>
<p>After a few nearly untraceable moments of nervous hesitation, Jasper took a leap of faith. He grasped Lucretia’s tiny fingers amid his own much larger ones. Then suddenly, the chain was complete. And Jasper was transported into some unknown portion of Aro’s litany of memories. </p>
<p>It was some minutes before Aro broke the chain.</p>
<p>Once he came back to reality, Jasper looked up at Aro in awe. Clearly, whatever Aro had shown him had blown his mind.</p>
<p>But also, judging by the way Jasper pursed his lips and refused to comment aloud on what he had seen, I gauged that it was intensely personal. That Aro had graciously entrusted Jasper with some of his most profound secrets. And trusted him to keep them.</p>
<p>Of course, if Aro had shown Jasper what I thought—a slew of his feedings—I wasn’t surprised. Drinking human blood was an orgasmic experience. And to feel that from someone else’s perspective was probably <em>almost</em> as intimate as reading someone’s thoughts in the bedroom.</p>
<p>Thankfully, the only memory Aro had shared with me where human blood was consumed was when he had brought Carlisle back to life. And that was plenty awkward enough to have eternally embedded in my mind on its own.</p>
<p>But to feel what Aro had felt <em>every single</em> <em>time</em> he had eaten, or even just ten or twenty of such experiences and to have that become an irrevocable part of you?</p>
<p>That was something else.  </p>
<p>“Do you understand now, my friend?” Aro asked considerately, after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.</p>
<p>Jasper nodded. “I understand, <em>sir</em>,” he affirmed, stressing the title. I guessed he wanted to make sure that that everyone knew he respected Aro’s authority, but he did <em>not </em>accept the man as a friend.</p>
<p>“However…” Jasper began hesitantly, “…with my gift, I feel <em>all </em>the emotions in the room. Not just one,” he explained. “And every human brought here will be terrified!”</p>
<p>Aro responded with a short, solemn nod. This he already knew.</p>
<p>But Jasper’s voice had broken with emotion at the end of his last sentence. Then, he had cringed and clutched his chest like he was in physical pain. And his sudden guilty expression, combined with his wavy blonde locks, reminded me instantly of Carlisle.</p>
<p>I flinched in response to Jasper’s obvious agony. And Aro too, looked moved by Jasper’s pain. He floated forward to offer some form of physical comfort—maybe a pat on the shoulder?</p>
<p>But Jasper shied away from his touch. And Aro did not pursue him any further.</p>
<p>“Unfortunately, yes,” Aro conceded sadly, a second later. Then his expression brightened and a venomy grin suddenly cracked across his face. “…But every vampire will be delighted,” he reminded Jasper.</p>
<p>I felt shivers race down my spine.</p>
<p>I had enough reservations about myself getting through today guilt-free. But Jasper had it far worse. I only had to deal with the protests of my own conscience. But Jasper would be drowning in a whirlpool of emotion. All that human pain and fear mixed together with so many vampires feeling the highest pleasure in the universe.</p>
<p>That would be quite the experience for an empath.</p>
<p>I wondered if Jasper would be able to stomach it.</p>
<p>“Have you made up your mind?” Aro probed curiously, forcing my attention back on him. “Alice told me yesterday when you began your journey that you kept changing your decision. One minute, you wanted to come work alongside her. And the next, you want to turn around and go back to the Cullens.”</p>
<p>“In fact,” Aro added, speaking over the guard who had begun to murmur amongst themselves, “You changed your mind so frequently, I did not alert my bodyguards to your imminent arrival. After all, why trouble them when it was so likely you would turn around before you even stepped foot inside our fortress?”</p>
<p>
  <em>That’s why Aro never said anything? Because Jasper had been indecisive the whole way here? Always threatening to turn around and go back to Forks?</em>
</p>
<p>I felt like that was a poor excuse for keeping us all in the dark. For making us all panic when Jasper finally did arrive. But I wasn’t the one with over a millennium of experience running the Volturi under my belt.</p>
<p>“So, tell me, young Jasper,” Aro encouraged, his feathery voice breaking me out of my thoughts again, “Have you finally settled on a single choice?”</p>
<p>Jasper looked quizzically at Aro. “You already know my decision.”</p>
<p>Aro smiled broadly. “Then let me ask you this, will you agree to join us when Heidi returns?”</p>
<p>It struck me, as he extended his hand cordially towards Jasper, that Aro was asking more than whether or not Jasper wanted to participate in this one meal. No, he was also asking whether Jasper wanted to join the Volturi.</p>
<p>The deeper implications of Aro’s statement weren’t lost on Jasper. He shot a fleeting glance down towards the gleaming, slivery chain hanging from Aro’s neck—the chain bearing his Volturi necklace. Then, suddenly, he looked up.</p>
<p>“Yes, I will join you, sir,” Jasper declared. “For the meal, and as long as Alice needs me here.”</p>
<p>“Marvelous!” Aro exclaimed. He didn’t seem to mind the caveats Jasper had used to hedge his statement. Regardless, his eager hands danced around his head in animated excitement. “You will make an excellent addition to the guard…” he appraised.</p>
<p>Aro trailed off, steepling his thin fingers together in contemplation. I imagined he was pondering precisely which position on his tactically arranged chessboard Jasper ought to occupy. But the reverence in his tone left a sour taste in my mouth.</p>
<p><em>Did Aro flatter all of his potential candidates like this?</em> I wondered bitterly.</p>
<p>“You would not mind utilizing your gifts in our favor?” Aro asked.</p>
<p>I wanted to snort with laughter. It wasn’t really a question. This was Aro’s faux-polite way of commanding Jasper to commit all of his time and talents to the service of the Volturi.</p>
<p>Of course, Alice must have prepared him for this event—after all, he was able to find the secret entrance without any assistance. So, Jasper wasn’t duped by Aro’s manipulation.</p>
<p>“I figured you would expect as much,” Jasper said evenly. Though his gritted teeth betrayed his underlying distaste.</p>
<p>There was a beat of silence. Jasper’s hollow, pitch-black eyes swerved to land on Alice. And I was surprised to see that his cool stare warmed only marginally.</p>
<p>While Alice smiled sheepishly at him to try and cheer him up, Aro licked his lips. “Are you <em>excited </em>to finally quench your thirst properly?” he asked, wearing a look of deranged glee.</p>
<p>“To be perfectly honest with you, sir, I do not look forward to this meal,” Jasper surprised us all by asserting, in spite of his rather obvious and extreme state of thirst. “But Alice wants me here, so I’ll do whatever I must to stay,” he huffed in exasperation.</p>
<p>His annoyance boggled my mind. Alice had made it sound like Jasper would eventually join of his own volition. Though, in reality, it looked more like he felt compelled to be here, rather than was convinced it was in his best interest.  </p>
<p>Aro looked ever-so-slightly apologetic, as if he fully understood Jasper’s motives. Which, I suppose he now did, having read his thoughts.</p>
<p>Then, after a moment, Aro smiled faintly—a small, close-lipped affair. “Of course.”</p>
<p>“Master, if I may object—” a protest suddenly sliced through the musty air.</p>
<p>I whirled, with everyone else, to face it. And discovered that it belonged to Chelsea.</p>
<p>Her flawless features reflected considerable worry. And I guessed she must have felt Jasper’s induction would threaten her critical position as the lynchpin of Aro’s organization.</p>
<p>“Do not worry, Chelsea. His powers do not invalidate my need for yours,” Aro intoned melodically, directly addressing her fears. “Jasper is a different sort of empath…” he continued. “He can only influence the surface feelings of those in his immediate vicinity. Isn’t that right, dear Jasper?”</p>
<p>My eyes shot open, curious to see his response.</p>
<p>“That is correct, sir,” Jasper curtly confirmed.  </p>
<p>“Might we have a demonstration?”</p>
<p>Aro turned his palm upwards and extended it in Jasper’s direction. He evidently expected that the younger vampire would comply with his suggestion to test his powers.</p>
<p>But Jasper resolutely shook his head. And every pallid face in the room, including mine, contorted with shock. It wasn’t good manners to refuse the decree of a king.</p>
<p>“Not right now…” Jasper gasped. “I would. But sir, I don’t… I don’t have the energy…”</p>
<p>As he choked out his excuse, I noticed his voice was suddenly rasping, and jarringly dry. And, as if to hit the point home even harder, as soon as he was finished explaining, his fingers darted up to curl around and scratch at his throat.</p>
<p>“Ah, how silly of me!” Aro exclaimed, splaying fingers dramatically over his unbeating heart as if he was aghast with himself. “Sometime after we feed, then…” he amended quickly.</p>
<p>Jasper nodded slowly, numbly, in response to Aro’s adjusted command. Apparently, he was not entirely convinced that partaking in the Volturi’s meal was a good idea. But whatever protests he still had, I imagined were quickly being drowned out by thirst.</p>
<p>It looked to me like Jasper was on the brink of starving to death. Mere days away from collapsing like Carlisle had a few centuries ago.</p>
<p>But unlike Carlisle, Jasper was not so good at hiding it. In the next few minutes he struggled valiantly to pry his clawing hands away from his neck and wait patiently for Heidi’s return. Unfortunately, it seemed his abilities to mask his pain were all depleted now. He couldn’t seem to dislodge his tenacious fingers. Nor to prevent a few labored hisses from escaping his parched lips.</p>
<p>Aro didn’t miss it. “You have not hunted humans in some time, have you?” he asked Jasper after several minutes.</p>
<p>It was somewhat of a pointless question. Aro, from his gift, already knew the answer. But I guess he wanted the empath to speak the answer aloud, for our benefit.</p>
<p>Reluctantly Jasper shook his head. “It’s been three years,” he confessed.  </p>
<p>Aro gasped.</p>
<p>And Alice mirrored his horror. “But I thought you slipped up plenty!” she cried, distressed.</p>
<p>She then threw her hands out wide in front of her, as if to visually demonstrate just how frequent Jasper had “lapsed” back into his natural diet despite his valiant efforts.</p>
<p>Involuntarily, I cringed as my all-to-vivid imagination conjured up crystal-clear images of Jasper in a variety of time periods and locations across the United States—mostly in high schools—lashing out and murdering someone standing too close to him.</p>
<p>I desperately hoped that he had been lucid enough to avoid doing so in front of too many witnesses. That he hadn’t been forced to add whole classrooms to his body count the way Edward almost had when he’d contemplated murdering me in Biology.</p>
<p>But I couldn’t be sure.</p>
<p>“I thought—” Alice continued with a perplexed voice, before she was abruptly interrupted.</p>
<p>“Did you ever once see me with red eyes since we moved to Forks? Aside from the few times each year Carlisle provided me with just enough bagged blood to get by?” Jasper bit back with surprising rancor.</p>
<p>That shut Alice up immediately. Apparently, she hadn’t.  </p>
<p>“Still, that is a long time to go without complete satiation,” Aro mused aloud, shaking his head as though he couldn’t quite believe it. </p>
<p>“Yes, it is,” Alice agreed. “So, why, in those three years, didn’t you ever hunt properly?” she snarled viciously at Jasper in disapproval.</p>
<p>“In case you didn’t notice <em>ma’am</em>, I was really starting to like the whole not-killing-people-thing!” Jasper snarled back. “I know it’s unsustainable,” he sighed dejectedly, obviously wishing that wasn’t the case. “But it was so <em>nice</em> just for a while to not have to feel their terror. Every. Single. Time.”</p>
<p>Jasper’s dark eyes glittered with emotion, before they snapped shut in pain. Then his hands instinctively constricted even tighter around his throat. And I worried that he might accidentally decapitate himself with all the pressure he was exerting there.</p>
<p>“<em>That’s</em> why I did it—not for your little <em>scheme </em>to save the species.” He spat the words like they were poison, making Alice flinch. “But for <em>me</em>.”</p>
<p>He punctuated this last statement by jabbing a finger at his chest.  </p>
<p>“I was willing to trade my health for peace of mind,” he declared.</p>
<p>Alice immediately opened her mouth to argue, before she abruptly reconsidered her decision. She had probably seen that the possible futures of that choice were undesirable. So she snapped her mouth shut and took a deep breath.</p>
<p>“And now?” she asked slowly, perplexed by Jasper’s apparent change of heart.</p>
<p>Jasper glowered icily at Alice—an expression that looked much more appropriate on Caius than the empathetic Texan vampire. “You know I can’t be separated from you for too long, my <em>mate,</em>” he said coldly.</p>
<p>Chelsea let out a stifled gasp. Marcus stirred nearly imperceptibly in his seat. And I was confused again.</p>
<p>Something was going on here that I didn’t understand. Alice and Jasper were not behaving like the amorous couple I had seen in Forks.</p>
<p>Obviously, there was a huge rift happening in their marriage over dietary disagreements. But I sensed that wasn’t the only reason behind what Marcus must be seeing with his power. And what Chelsea could apparently feel too.</p>
<p>This tension between Alice and Jasper ran deeper than that. And it was making me seriously question what being mated meant.</p>
<p>Right now, the couple was silent. But their actions spoke volumes. Alice hung her head and wrung her hands in discomfort. And Jasper stared murderously at her, like he wanted her to melt on the spot.</p>
<p><em>Did he even like her? </em>I wondered, with a jolt of horror. <em>Or was he just <strong>stuck </strong>with her?</em></p>
<p>While I silently fretted, Aro cleared his throat to dispel some of the tension. Immediately, all eyes flicked to him. But he only looked at Jasper.</p>
<p>“Heidi is bringing twenty people this time—three of which are extras I could reserve for you. Is that acceptable, my friend?” he asked, clearly willing to make adjustments if necessary.</p>
<p>This time Jasper didn’t protest to the amicable appellation. I guess his thirst was catching up to him so quickly he no longer had the presence of mind to care.</p>
<p>“That is very generous of you,” he gasped out, nodding. “But if it isn’t enough…”</p>
<p>He trailed off, audibly gulping back the rest of his sentence. As though the words were too painful to speak aloud.</p>
<p>“Then I will take you hunting myself, outside city limits,” Aro finished for him without even a glimmer of hesitation.</p>
<p>Jasper pursed his lips and bobbed his head obediently. Though I could tell there was no real enthusiasm in it. The last thing Jasper wanted was to endure any more human death.</p>
<p>While Jasper looked forlorn, I wondered if he would need to take Aro up on that. <em>Three </em>people had a lot of blood. Around three and half <em>gallons. </em>And I found it hard to believe, as a vampire myself, that another vampire could imbibe that much blood in one sitting, let alone <em>more</em>.</p>
<p>But I’d seen a few vampires do it before. Also, I knew how quickly those with physical powers deteriorated on a diet of animal blood. And I could see just how thirsty he was now—clawing at his own throat and hissing, the sounds growing more animalistic and less sane with every passing second.  </p>
<p>So it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. And I could only hope, as we all stood, congregated in the turret room, that he could bear to wait a little longer. At least until Heidi arrived.</p>
<p>I wasn’t sure exactly how long that was going to be.</p>
<p>But I was fairly certain that Aro’s staff wanted to keep their throats intact.    </p>
<p>…</p>
<p>To my considerable relief, Heidi arrived only twenty minutes later. While she tended to dress more dowdily during our foreign language lessons—probably in a futile attempt to tone down her allure, when I turned around to see her coming, I noticed she was dressed seductively again today. A short, sunny white dress swished around her, as she swayed her hips mesmerizingly. And matching gladiator sandals laced half-way up her thighs.</p>
<p>Dark brown contacts hid the most obvious sign of her vampirism. But she still looked otherworldly—like a sun-kissed goddess. And when she strolled into the turret room, fifteen hapless tourists from around the world trailed in behind her, wearing dazed, faraway smiles. Like they were under some kind of spell.</p>
<p>Many of the tourists held flashing cameras. Just like before. The repeated pulses of light as they snapped pictures of the turret room and its occupants were bright enough to make me wince automatically. But, to my surprise, the stark illumination didn’t actually hurt. Or really impair my vision in any way. I was still able to see just fine.</p>
<p>I blinked a few times, to get used to that. Then went back to studying the tourists while they obliviously snapped away. But as my supernaturally enhanced eyes roved over them, I was stunned once again by how <em>ugly</em> they all were.</p>
<p>Their skin, where it wasn’t covered by fabric, was coarse, porous, weathered and sometimes had oily protrusions, or little random hairs. Their features were all crooked, and out of proportion. Several had gnarled, yellow teeth. And one had hands covered in knobby little warts. </p>
<p>I staggered back, automatically repulsed. But just then, a rush of mouthwatering smells assaulted my nose. And my opinion of the humans changed instantly.</p>
<p>While the outside of the tourists was utterly unappealing, something <em>inside </em>them smelled hot, metallic, and delicious. Each smell was a little different—perhaps a little sweeter, or a little saltier. But they all mingled together in the dusty turret room air, creating a tantalizing, coppery bouquet.</p>
<p>I inhaled sharply, drinking in the aroma. Then, like Alice had warned me might happen, my thirst suddenly flared to life.</p>
<p>My throat pulsed with fire, like someone had shoved a branding iron down it. My mouth suddenly felt so dry, like all the moisture in the world had evaporated. And my teeth slicked with venom.</p>
<p><em>So much blood, </em>I thought gluttonously.</p>
<p><em>Too much</em>, I rephrased as my eyes flickered again over the mass of humans. There was no way I could drain <em>that </em>many.</p>
<p>But before I could remember the obvious fact that not all these humans were meant for me, I heard a low, savage growl erupt behind me—a sound like a feral wildcat. Then I saw Jasper whip past me, his chin streaming with venom, and his obsidian eyes locked on the nearest neck.</p>
<p>The smell must have hit him at the same time. But Jasper, it seemed, was even more far-gone than me. Which was surprising.</p>
<p>I was the newborn. According to Alice, <em>I</em> was supposed to be the one that was out-of-control. But even with flames scorching my throat all of a sudden, and the overwhelming scent beckoning to me, I hesitated.</p>
<p>We were supposed to wait for Aro’s signal. That was something he’d taught me in our etiquette classes.  </p>
<p>Though, whether or not Jasper knew that, he clearly didn’t care. He furiously tackled the first human in his path, bashing their skull fatally against the floor. Then, while the human’s cracked open head began bleeding out on the flagstones, Jasper bit hard into their neck. And enthusiastically swallowed the ensuing fluids.</p>
<p>It had happened so fast. And it was a sight so brutal, so raw, that it ought to have made my stomach churn. But surprisingly, this time, it didn’t. Instead it only made me hungrier.</p>
<p>Thick droplets of drool leaked from the corner of my mouth while Jasper messily ate. And my eyes eagerly followed the trail of red.</p>
<p>They focused first on the viscous blood pooled behind the man’s head where it had struck the ground. It was like a scarlet lake of melted chocolate. Then, after a moment, they flicked over to see more blood being sucked from the human’s throat into Jasper’s eager mouth. Blood that stained his lips.</p>
<p>The sight, gruesome as it was, was strangely beautiful. And the smell wafting from the man’s corpse was sweeter than I would have preferred. But it was tasty enough to trigger the appropriate instincts.</p>
<p>I bared my teeth instinctively. And nearly lowered into a crouch, ready to spring onto Jasper and wrestle him away. So that I could drink from the human’s neck myself.</p>
<p>Then I remembered I was being silly. There was plenty of blood to go around. </p>
<p>While I straightened up, the rest of the vampires participating in today’s meal seemed to process what had occurred. That Jasper had already made the first kill.</p>
<p>And once they registered that fact, they needed no further prompting. Even though Aro had not given the signal.</p>
<p>Vera, Chelsea, Corin, Alice and Heidi surged forward at once. Towards the center of the room, where the bulk of the tourists were congregated. Marcus only waited a fraction of a second to join them. And Aro’s daughters skipped happily behind him, joining the wall of black shapes sprinting forward.</p>
<p>The vampires’ feet thundered loudly across the floor just like before. Their cloaks whipped furiously around them, in the same way too. Though there were less cloaks this time. And the instant the vampires began to charge, I saw nineteen pairs of human eyes widen with horror. And heard a chorus of high-pitched screams.</p>
<p>I felt a strange sense of déjà vu ripple through me when I heard that sound.</p>
<p>Once again, the feast had begun.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Alright, so we've reached the half-way point of part 2. I'm still working on the final chapters, so toward the end there might be a few delays. Chapters 22 and 23 are already 95% finished, (they just need some minor grammar edits) so there should still be regular updates for at least two more weeks, I just wanted to be sure to let you guys know in advance that changes might be coming up.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>CHAPTER SEVEN: SECOND TASTE</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>Human blood makes us the strongest… </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jasper’s been thinking about cheating—adverse as he is to the idea… </em>
</p><p>- Edward, Eclipse, Chapter 14</p><p>…</p><p>The turret room was in pandemonium.</p><p>While the room echoed with the thunderous sound of clamoring footsteps, I stayed perfectly still—near the bottom of the dais steps, my back to the three thrones—observing the chaos from a distance. I didn’t see Aro or Caius amid the rushing bodies in front of me. Or the six bodyguards either. But all the other vampires were running with inhuman swiftness toward their prey.</p><p>And said prey was shrieking and scattering in terror.</p><p>The humans ran around the turret room as fast as they could, without any particular destination in mind. They were just frantic to get <em>away </em>from the vampires closing in around them. But I knew, having once been human myself, that they wouldn’t get far before the charging monsters descended on them.</p><p>My heart sank with dread. And then I felt a rush of surprise for how I reacted to the chaos.</p><p>I wasn’t surprised by my <em>feelings</em>. After all, I wasn’t Caius, who, I saw from a quick glance over my shoulder, was watching from his throne, with a cruelly pleased expression. Or Aro, who I caught in another glance watching the scene from his throne with a look of manic glee.</p><p>No, the surprising part wasn’t how I felt, but how my <em>body </em>reacted. When the humans started screaming, their blood spiked with adrenaline—a smell that was bitter, but strangely enticing. And when that scent of fear hit me, it whipped me into a sort of frenzy.</p><p>My legs tensed, ready to bolt. My teeth slicked with venom. And I felt my rational senses slipping. Giving way to the beast within.  </p><p>
  <em>Go on. Feed. You know you want to. </em>
</p><p>That darker part of my mind was right. My moral qualms were rapidly becoming unimportant the longer I inhaled that coppery bouquet of blood permeating the air. Ever second the blood clogged my nostrils, my ethical concerns seemed further and further away. Harder and harder to remember.</p><p>
  <em>Why didn’t I want to do this again?</em>
</p><p>My foot shot forward, of its own will. And my other one jerked, ready to join it.</p><p>But at the very last second, before my instincts compelled me to join the other sprinting vampires, I hissed, and rooted my feet in place. Then I wrapped my fingers tightly around my blazing neck. And I tried to swallow the small lake of fluid pooling eagerly on my tongue.</p><p>It was harder than I thought it should be—even with my poor coordination. But, using all my concentration, I managed to hold my ground. And tried to think about something else besides how badly I wanted to drink human blood right now. Anything else.</p><p>As badly as I wanted this, I dreaded it too. I was still too clumsy to effectively break a human’s neck. So, like Alice had pointed out, I would have to take my second victim alive.</p><p>While they were still kicking and screaming.</p><p>My entire body shuddered. I didn’t want to do <em>that.</em></p><p>It was awful enough to begin with that I had to kill someone at all. But to have to listen to their cries of agony and have to fight off their struggling limbs while I did it?</p><p>The thought made me sick.</p><p>So, though it was like wrestling a grizzly bear, I fought back the frenzy hazing my mind. And rushed to come up with a plan, before I was lost entirely to my instincts. A way to alleviate my thirst, without creating another horrible memory.</p><p>After all, I hardly needed <em>two</em> awful feeding experiences to plague my mind whenever I wasn’t busy training. <em>One </em>was already more than enough.</p><p>Of course, I wasn’t sure if such a thing was even possible, no matter how I approached it. Feeding was, essentially <em>murder. </em>And I wasn’t sure there was <em>any</em> way to make that bearable. Especially when Aro’s humane methods weren’t an option for me yet. </p><p>But I was determined to try.</p><p>While I choked the flames back, fighting past how parched I was to think, I tried to come up with a strategy. <em>Maybe there is some other way besides breaking their neck that I can make their death quick and painless? Or at least to keep them from screaming? </em></p><p>I winced. I hated to admit it, but that really was my top priority. I couldn’t <em>stand </em>the sound. Or, more accurately, the pain it implied.</p><p>But as I reviewed a hundred different, quick, bloodless ways to kill my prey in my mind—suffocation, blunt force trauma, hanging, inducing a heart attack, etc.—I realized all of them either required a mastery over my strength I did not yet possess or materials I didn’t have handy. So maybe Alice was right. Maybe I would just have to suck it up and do what everyone else was doing.</p><p>Desperate for any other solution, I looked over my shoulder a third time. Aro, Caius and six bodyguards who protected the three Volturi leaders were all still in the same positions as before; motionless as statues. I stared at them in awe, wondering if their immobile faces might reveal some secret to their restraint. Anything that might help me avoid killing someone today.</p><p>But the more I stared at them, the more difficult I found their actions to comprehend. I couldn’t understand how they could bear it. It had to be <em>torture</em> for them to resist the urge to participate with the scent of blood this thick in the air. God knew it was torture for <em>me</em>.</p><p>At the same time, I kind of envied them. I wanted to resist, too. I wouldn’t have to kill anyone if I could manage that. Alice had promised me that.  </p><p>But the warm, delicious, metallic smell pouring out of Jasper’s victim, and lingering beneath the skin of all the other tourists was absolutely overwhelming. And I knew it was only a matter of time before my resolve crumbled entirely.</p><p>After all, <em>ravenous </em>was the predominant personality of most newborns. And I wasn’t arrogant enough to believe I was an exception.  </p><p>With one last glance at Aro, I tore my eyes away from the thrones. And focused back on scene ahead.</p><p>The rushing mass of cloaks had finally converged around the tourists. My thirst, which I’d managed to wrestle half-way into submission during the last few seconds, spiked again in my throat when the Volturi began to seize their victims. I guess the sight of other vampires hunting whetted my appetite now.</p><p>I tried to take a deep breath to try and calm myself down. But that ended up being a bad idea.</p><p>As soon as the air whistled down my throat, another rush of that coppery bouquet lambasted my senses. And it was so strong this time, that, despite my unresolved misgivings, I couldn’t stop myself from lurching forward. And grabbing the nearest human by the shoulders.</p><p>I dislocated both of them in the process. Which made the woman I’d blindly grabbed scream, high and long, as her bones dislodged from their appropriate sockets.</p><p>Her howl of distress momentarily gave me pause. I felt a sharp pang of empathy. And I froze, staring uncertainly into the human’s terrified brown eyes.</p><p>Her eyes were brown, like mine had been when I was human. And the intense fright I saw reflected back at me almost made me lose my resolve. They reminded me so much of my former human self. It made me feel sick.</p><p>And I only felt worse when the woman trapped in my iron grip suddenly began to cry. Little drops of salty water spilled over her cheeks as she wailed—<em>tears. </em>And it hit me suddenly that I couldn’t make those any more. Which was another harsh reminder of my true identity.</p><p>That I was a monster.</p><p>The woman whimpered pathetically. Then made a plea—probably for her freedom, or her life—in a language I didn’t understand. Which made me feel rotten inside.</p><p>But I didn’t let go. No matter how I felt, my throat couldn’t stand to wait any longer. The woman’s heart was thundering at a breakneck pace in my ears, making the blood in her veins pulse tantalizingly. And her scent—a heady combination of horror, adrenaline and metallic spice—was driving me crazy.</p><p><em>She is prey! You are a predator!</em> my instincts helpfully reminded me. <em>There is no reason for you to regret this. You do not have either Jasper’s or Aro’s gifts so it will be painless—exhilarating, actually. Go on! Bite her! </em></p><p>After a fleeting moment of hesitation, I gave in.</p><p>I yanked her body roughly closer to me. And descended on her neck.</p><p>I was stunned for a nanosecond at how easily my teeth sliced through the layers of the woman’s skin. Like a hot knife through butter. Then, before I could think of anything else—like my ill-formed plans to make this as quick and painless as possible for my victim—I began to drink fervently from the wound. And slowly, my mind started to get lost in the hunt.   </p><p>When the first mouthful of blood splashed into my mouth, the temperature shocked me. I’d felt it on my tongue once before, during my previous feed. But I still didn’t understand.</p><p>
  <em>How could anyone stand to be so hot all the time? </em>
</p><p>I wasn’t exactly complaining. The more blood I guzzled, the more I became convinced that the natural warmth that human blood from the source had was actually the perfect temperature. Like a delicious soup straight off the stove. But with how weak humans were, I was surprised they didn’t burn from inside out.</p><p>
  <em>So hot. Had I really been this warm before?</em>
</p><p>I was finding that harder and harder to believe. And as I tried my best to just enjoy the blissful experience of drinking human blood, I started to feel, for the first time, like I had more in common with the other cloaked predators, than our horrified prey.</p><p>Perhaps my reflection was still an alien. Perhaps my inhuman body did not yet feel like my own. But I knew that after today, I couldn’t go back to my room and try to delude myself that my transformation had not happened.</p><p>There was no use trying to pretend any longer.</p><p>I was no longer human.</p><p>And never would be again.</p><p>…</p><p>I continued to drink.</p><p>I had assumed before that this time would be easier. Definitely not emotionally. But I hadn’t clumsily torn my victim’s head off. So, I’d thought the logistics of avoiding a mess, at least, would be easier.</p><p>But despite the fact that this woman’s blood wasn’t spraying over my shoulders, I still felt like a lot of it wasn’t ending up in my digestive system. Some of it had to do with the fact that the woman kept moving.</p><p>Every few seconds, she pounded against my chest, trying to push me away, each balled fist striking, feeling no stronger against my rock-hard skin than a brush of a feather. And every time she jerked underneath me, the vein I was drinking from in her neck changed position beneath my lips.</p><p>I hissed in frustration as she shook away from my teeth again, causing more blood to spill past my lips, and dribble down the front of her dress. I tightened my grip on her shoulders—hoping to force her to be still.</p><p>The continuous, shrill noise that had permeated my senses since the feed began, rang suddenly louder in my ears. I wasn’t sure exactly what that was—it didn’t sound familiar. Not quite like the high keening of a siren. But nothing like a whistle either.</p><p>But I tried not to think too hard about it. And instead focused on trying to suck as much blood from this woman’s body as I could, with as little waste as possible.</p><p>I stayed bent over my prey for what felt like a very long time. And eventually the irritating, feathery brushing against my chest grew less vigorous. And that shrill noise faded, first into a low, labored moan. Then a dry gasp. And finally silence.</p><p>But even when the woman in my arms went completely still, too faint from loss of blood to struggle anymore, I couldn’t prevent some of her blood from being wasted. It was surprisingly difficult to control the flow, especially now that her heartbeat had turned erratic. And I often got myself into trouble by slurping with greater urgency when her blood stilled between pulses, only to experience a rush of more than I could possibly swallow once her heart picked back up again.</p><p>Streams of thick, hot fluid poured past my lips, pouring down the human’s neck and out of my line of sight. It stained her filmy white dress. And beaded in small quantities on the floor. </p><p>But I didn’t dare detach my mouth from its current position to try and lap up the spills with my tongue. Because I feared I would only accidentally discard more blood by leaving the gouge I had made in her neck unattended.</p><p>I could only hope that whatever I managed to gulp down was enough. Because I wasn’t sure I could handle killing any more than one person on any given day, my resolve to try and not feel remorse, notwithstanding. Especially now that I suddenly understood what that shrill noise had been.</p><p>That had been the sound of my victim screaming at the top of her lungs.</p><p>And now she was silent.</p><p>It took all of my willpower not to shudder.</p><p>…</p><p>When all of the blood finally exited my victim’s body—whether it had ended up in my stomach or not—I slowly extricated my teeth. They felt strange, slipping out of the buttery layers of human skin I had buried them in. A fact I attributed to the viscous layer of venom clinging to them.</p><p>I kept my head dipped, after pulling out, to lick away any obviously salvageable trails. Until I was absolutely certain that I managed to drink up as much of the woman’s blood as possible.</p><p>Only then did I fully draw back.</p><p>I tossed my head away from the suddenly limp, silent corpse in my arms. My heart flared to life then, and spread most of the accumulated blood outwards to nourish every cell in my body. My whole body relaxed as the warmth thrillingly rushed through me. And when it soaked into my tissues, coloring my cheeks a rosy pink, I gave a satiated moan.</p><p>The sensation that followed my cry was blissful, floaty. But it was so overwhelming that it made my vision fog over with red. And caused my fiercely clutching arms to suddenly drop dazedly to my sides, dropping my bloodless victim on the floor in the process.</p><p>Normally, I would have cringed as her body flopped ungracefully on the ground. And possibly began to apologize for treating her that way—even though words were meaningless to the dead. But I was too busy sailing in heaven to even notice that I had let go.</p><p>I staggered backwards a few steps involuntarily, my back still sharply arched in delight. And remained in that unnatural position, totally lost from reality for who knows how long.</p><p>…</p><p>When I finally filtered back to earth and comprehended that my hands were now empty, I firmly avoided looking at my feet, where I knew the body of my second meal lied bloodless and crumpled like a discarded candy wrapper. Still feeling a bit dazed from the blood rush, I wasn’t ready to face what I had done.</p><p>Instead, I surveyed the rest of the room, watching with morbid fascination as the rest of the Volturi continued their feast. I was intent on trying to make myself more comfortable with the grisly scene surrounding me. Because this was far from the last time I would see such a thing.</p><p>Ten humans were already dead, their lifeless bodies scattered haphazardly throughout the room. But only the twins were finished with their meal, I was a little stunned to notice.  Everyone besides Aro’s daughters, who were sitting again on the dais steps, swinging their legs back and forth childishly, was working on their second or third victim.</p><p>Marcus drank from a plump red-head, while his first victim—a slender brunette—lied contorted and unresponsive at his feet. This didn’t really faze me as much as I had anticipated it would. Nor did the sight of Heidi with two sienna-skinned men piled in front of her while she guzzled from a third. I knew that their powers expended a particular toll on their bodies, and this was the price for using them.</p><p>And the gore itself, gruesome was it was, especially to my new eyes which did not miss a single detail, was starting to have less of an impact. I was becoming desensitized.  </p><p>However, just when I finished resolving to view the rest of the primal feast without shying away from even the most uncomfortable implications, I heard a loud, high scream. And, on impulse, I pivoted to face it.</p><p>When I spun around, I saw Vera tear a man from the grip of his wife. She ignored the wife’s heartbroken shrieks in favor of biting the husband’s neck. And I flinched in horror.</p><p>Witnessing the kill itself didn’t disturb me anymore. In fact, the gory visual sent a strange tingle of excitement down my spine. But at the same time, I couldn’t help but mourn what was being lost.</p><p>My mind spiraled back to the list Heidi had been working on. I knew, having seen many of the faces around before on her papers, that most of the tourists Heidi had lured here were unmarried orphans, with no close friends—no one to miss them when they died. But the husband I had just witnessed get eaten had been wearing a wedding ring.</p><p>And as I watched Corin come up from behind and seize the wife, I wasn’t sure what to feel. If there was some sort of afterlife, as several well-respected vampires had hinted towards, then I had no doubts that they would be reunited in death. But if not—and I hadn’t yet decided what I believed in that regard—then their love, however profound and beautiful it had been, now ceased to exist.</p><p>All because a few vampires were a little thirsty.</p><p> My lips quavered with the beginnings of a sob while Corin enthusiastically chugged down the woman’s blood. It didn’t feel right for something as rare and precious as true love to die for such base purposes. I thought that vampires, of all species, with their undying devotion to their mates, ought to recognize the significance of what they were destroying,</p><p>But Corin paid no mind to her victim’s weak, terrified gasps and frail kicks against her impenetrable calves. It was like they didn’t exist at all.</p><p>I shivered at her coldness. And a wail of sorrow bubbled in my throat for the human lovers’ loss. But ultimately, I stopped myself from dryly bawling at the last moment.</p><p>These were precisely the sorts of sacrifices that I needed to get comfortable with making.</p><p>Perhaps a few couples would die to feed us. But thousands—no, <em>millions</em> more, I corrected, remembering what I had seen in Alice’s vision—would live because of my contribution to the Volturi.  </p><p><em>Killing people is okay, </em>I chanted to myself, willing myself to believe it. <em>Because their sacrifice means so many more will live.</em></p><p>Just as the words were starting to sink in, a dark shape whipped past me. Acting on instinct again, I whirled around to catch sight of whatever was bolting so close. And as my mahogany hair settled around my shoulders, I was astonished to recognize the back of a wavy-blond head.</p><p>
  <em>Jasper.</em>
</p><p>His gusto confused me. There were still plenty of humans to pick from. And most had given up all hope of escaping. Instead, they simply cowered with their hands over their heads on the floor, waiting to face their horrible fate.</p><p>So, there was no real reason to <em>run</em>.</p><p>But, though it wasn’t rational, Jasper ran anyway. His hands shout out as he dashed over the dusty stone floor, and roughly seized the first human in his path by the collar. Then he practically shoved their throat into his mouth, chewing hungrily through their skin. And proceeded to scarf down all of their blood in record time.</p><p>As I watched, I felt ice shoot down my spine. And suddenly I was no longer confused. My new instincts automatically understood the reason for his haste.</p><p>He truly was famished. More so than I had ever seen anyone.</p><p>And because of that fact, the man whose head he had bashed in earlier, and the one I just watched him slash into were not enough. After Jasper finished, he apathetically cast the corpse of his second victim aside. And dashed off in search of another.</p><p>His chosen prey this time was a short, plump woman with curly black hair. Though, I hardly thought Jasper noticed anything of her appearance. Because before she could even blink, he had thrown down a fist into the top of her pretty little skull, concussing her to death instantly.</p><p>Lifeless, she quickly toppled to the ground. And Jasper followed her down, catching her by the collar of her pale blue blouse. Before wrenching her up to his mouth.</p><p>Again, Jasper drank with incredible haste, gulping huge mouthfuls of blood down loudly. And I twitched, struggling to resist the urge to recoil in horror.</p><p>I’d never seen anything quite like it. Even Alice, last month, had not seemed <em>this</em> voracious. Jasper was so wild with thirst, I felt like I was watching a starved lion hunt. And yet, at the same time, he was so precise with his movements, I felt like I was also watching a super-solider-turned-assassin cutting down the enemy.</p><p>So deadly. So accurate. So beautiful.</p><p>Jasper sucked his third victim dry in record time. And he even continued to hungrily suck at her utterly empty veins for a few seconds after he had drained everything. Like he wished there was more. Like his thirst was still nowhere near being satisfied.</p><p>When he pulled away, I noticed, to my astonishment and horror, that was <em>true</em>. His eyes were no longer black wells of ink—a relief. But, even after swallowing so much nourishment, they were only a shade lighter. The dimmest maroon I’d ever seen.</p><p>So naturally, still thirsty, he dropped his third kill. And, before it could even land floppily on the ground, he rushed off, in search of more blood.</p><p>But now there were no more humans left—all twenty humans who had been cruelly manipulated into entering this room had been drained. And they were slowly getting deposited, by the vampires who had killed them, in a towering heap beside the circular grate resting in the center of the floor.</p><p>A few stray drops of blood littered the dusty beige floors here and there. They spotted the clothing of the deceased. Or had dried atop cold, marble-like skin. But it wasn’t even enough to be worthy perusing.</p><p>Or so I thought. Until Jasper suddenly dropped to the floor. And began eagerly licking up the paltry, dirty beads of red like his life depended on it.</p><p>My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a gasp as I witnessed the disgusting and peculiar sight. And Aro, who had just risen from his throne to organize the disposal of our dead prey, suddenly paused.</p><p>He turned away from his bodyguards to frown deeply at the disconcerting scene before him. Then, in a flash, he zipped over to where Jasper had fallen on his stomach. And lowered into a crouch so he could tenderly stroke the tense muscles of the famished southern vampire’s back.</p><p>“There is no need for that,” Aro purred delicately into the younger man’s ear.</p><p>Jasper ceased lapping the ancient stones beneath him. And looked hesitantly behind him.</p><p>“Come,” Aro beckoned, extending an arm for Jasper to take and inclining his head in a jerky motion towards the room’s exit. “I will take you hunting. Outside the city limits, of course.”</p><p>Jasper’s expression turned suddenly paralytic. And, when he looked down at his hands, sticky at the tips with dried blood, it wasn’t hard to guess why. He began to tremble, the toll of having caused so many deaths finally catching up to him. And when he buried his face in his dirty hands, I felt my own throat surge with sympathetic bile.</p><p>Thankfully my swallowing reflexes were just as fast as my gag-reflex. So, I avoided coughing up my recent meal. But as Aro graciously assisted Jasper to his feet and whisked him out of the throne room, off to who-knows-where, I still felt sick. More people were probably going to die. And the one who was going to slaughter them was probably going to deeply hate himself for it.</p><p>That was what restoring Jasper’s long-neglected health cost.</p><p>I could only hope that in the end, it would be worth it.  </p><p>…</p><p>Once Aro and Jasper had gone, the guard—including Alice, but minus myself—immediately began the same horrifying process of disposing of the leftover bodies. I had seen it enacted the last time I had been here. But my vision hadn’t been what it was now. And seeing <em>this </em>through new eyes, was a thousand times worse.</p><p>Someone had grabbed the messy corpse I had carelessly left on the floor and added it to the pile, I was disturbed to notice. And several others were scurrying around with supernatural swiftness to collect the three crumpled forms Jasper had left strewn wildly around the room.</p><p>After a few seconds, all of the human remains were amassed in one place. They were stacked haphazardly atop one another with arms and legs jutting out at unnatural angles. Wide glassy eyes stared up at the ceiling. And deep, crescent-shaped holes were carved out everywhere.</p><p>Some of the holes were more jagged than others, I noted—probably an indicator of how forcefully the victim had been bitten. And they were most commonly found on the neck. Though a few were found on the wrists or closer to the collarbone.</p><p>The peculiar wounds reminded me of the blunt grooves riddling Carlisle’s body in his human memories. They were utterly dry except for a few spots of crusted blood. And I shuddered involuntarily as I recalled from his memories precisely what it felt like to wake up, riddled in holes. </p><p>While I watched, the cloaked guard searched with impassive expressions every purse and pocket of the dead humans with their cold hands. They fished out spare change, wallets, phones and other valuables, which were set carefully aside in one pile. Next, they harshly ripped away the corpses’ clothes, shredding the sweat and blood-stained fabric, before it was thrown into another stack on the other side.</p><p>I tried not to stare while the human’s limp bodies were bared. It felt extremely disrespectful to do so.</p><p>But none of the other Volturi treated these humans’ sudden nakedness as something forbidden or embarrassing. To them, it seemed, human nudity was about as unimpressive as animal nudity. And as I looked at the hairy, porous, splotchy and frankly really gross skin that covered the bodies of our victims, I was beginning to grasp why.</p><p>There was nothing alluring about them now. Especially not contorted and lifeless as they were. </p><p>It stunned me, as I watched the guard coldly go about their work, which things they prized above others. Especially how pearls were regarded as more valuable than people. And as the pile of money, cameras and jewelry swelled higher, I suddenly felt as though I was looking at a <em>Vanitas </em>painting.</p><p>This sudden awareness only happened because I’d taken a short online humanities course during the summer to convince my father that Edward wasn’t the only thing I was passionate about. And that art style had particularly stood out to me for some reason. Probably because it was rather morbid. And I had almost died at the hand of James only a few months before.</p><p>A typical <em>Vantias </em>painting was extremely weird at first glance. Just a motley assortment of random objects and a skull, or some other obvious representation of death. But it was all symbolic: a reminder that all of those things and what they stood for—books representing scholarship, crowns representing politics and so forth—were eventually doomed to crumble away to dust.</p><p>At the time, I had tried to use the paintings as leverage to gain immortality. My whole life will be vain if I just grow old and die like everyone else, I’d told Edward. But now, as I looked at all the refinery that had been gathered up by the Volturi, juxtaposed with the owners’ pale, bloodless corpses, the sentiment of the painting style hit home harder than ever before.</p><p>Which was extremely bizarre. Because the idea—that all earthly treasures and pursuits were ultimately meaningless because mortality meant that they could never last very long—no longer applied to me. As long as I wasn’t ripped to shreds and set on fire, <em>I </em>was everlasting. And any objects, knowledge or titles I gained, I was likely to keep for good.</p><p>But for our victims, the <em>Vanitas</em> story held very true.</p><p>Everything they had possessed, earned or become in their short lives was in vain. Because it did nothing to prevent their bitter, bloody end.</p><p>Their whole existence had very anti-climatically led up to this.</p><p>And they wouldn’t even leave a legacy behind to be remembered by to the rest of the world. They had been specifically selected for our consumption because the world <em>wouldn’t</em> mourn their loss. In most of these cases, the world wouldn’t even know that there had been a loss at all. The disappearances of a handful of invisible people, primarily lower-class individuals from countries with poor record-keeping meant nothing to most of humanity.</p><p>And the few who were well-off enough to contribute cameras, watches and baubles to the small pile of loot, would only be another unfamiliar face amid the millions of missing people that were never found. </p><p>It was tragic.</p><p>And despite my earlier determination to try and accept the ramifications of my new life now, it made me want to be sick.</p><p><em>Why Aro? Is this sacrifice really necessary? </em>I questioned skeptically, my throat surging with bile as I looked upon the tear-stained face of my own victim amid the fleshy tomb of her fallen fellows. <em>Couldn’t we extract blood without killing them? Dine on bagged blood instead? </em>I reasoned.  </p><p>I assumed he must have his reasons. <em>Maybe setting up a clandestine connection, like the one he has with his military contractors, with the Red Cross is harder? Too hard? Or at least too hard to do without being suspicious?</em></p><p>But I still didn’t like it.</p><p>Feeling nauseous, I clapped my hands over my mouth to prevent anything precious from spilling out. My intestines tremored with guilt. And, as I stared down at the pile of carnage, the enormous tidal wave of self-loathing I’d been fighting back all this past month threatened to wash over me again. </p><p>In another few seconds, however, the human’s torn, bloodless bodies were removed from my vision. The circular iron grate was removed from its resting place in a depression in the middle of the floor. And all twenty lifeless figures were quickly shoved into the pit beneath it.</p><p>It was so deep I only heard the tiniest of thuds when the heavy clumps of dead flesh came in contact with the bottom. I shuddered, wondering how far down the black pit went. And how thick the layer of ash that coated the bottom was.</p><p><em>Hundreds if not thousands of years of bodies, </em>I reminded myself. <em>That’s got to leave quite a lot behind. Even if they are mostly incinerated. </em></p><p>I watched the guard pile them all in, until the last body was dumped unceremoniously into the cavernous darkness below. Then the grate on the floor was replaced with a loud, reverberating clang. And while the sound still echoed in my ears, suddenly, someone handed me a mop.</p><p>I blinked in astonishment as my fingers automatically curled around the handle as it was thrust into my palm. And, a fraction of a second later, I whirled to face whoever gave it to me.</p><p>
  <em>Corin? </em>
</p><p>The little brown-skinned vampire standing behind me had a mop of her own. And next to her feet was a bucket filled nearly to the brim with a soapy liquid that carried the strong chemical bite of chlorine. It burned my new nose.</p><p>At first, I was confused. Until I remembered that this was still part of the clean up process. A process I was now, evidently expected to participate in, now that I’d contributed to the mess.</p><p>I took in a sharp breath of air. <em>Was I supposed to help clean up last time?</em></p><p>I felt a little bad. I hadn’t known.</p><p>But before I could let the memory of the awful mess I’d made before consume me entirely, I quickly decided it didn’t matter. I was helping <em>now. </em></p><p>I gripped my mop tighter, ready to scrub. But before we started mopping, Corin tied the hem of her cloak around her neck, to keep it away from the bleach that could steal some of its all-important darkness. And I copied her. Though I hardly cared where exactly I stood in the hierarchy, the cloak was a gift from Aro. And I didn’t get the sense he would be happy if he had to replace it so soon.</p><p>Once the fabric no longer brushed against the floor, Corin dipped her mop into the bucket, and began, unexpectedly, to speak in thickly accented English.  </p><p>“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” she apologized quietly.  </p><p>I dipped my own mop into the bucket. And looked at her, my face filled with surprise.</p><p>She was apologizing to me? But she was <em>right. </em>What real chance did I have to be the savior from Alice’s visions if I couldn’t handle a little human death?</p><p>“Feeding was not easy for me at first, either,” she confessed, dipping her head in shame, while she started to work her chlorine-soaked mop across the stone floor. “It’s just been so long. It is easy to forget what it was like in the beginning.”</p><p>I smiled wryly, despite myself. “Thanks.”</p><p>I started to push my own wet mop across the floor, sweeping up the little beads of red that were scattered in front of me. And I watched, half disturbed, half fascinated, as they dissolved instantly in the bleach, and floated away, the liquid following the gentle slope of the floor toward the grate in the center of the room.</p><p>“I can help you, you know,” she offered, her voice soft, and reassuring.</p><p>I made a face. “Addictive contentment?” I asked, remembering what she’d said in the conference room during my induction. And Corin gently nodded.</p><p>I shook my head. I still wasn’t sure exactly what that entailed. But anything with the word <em>addictive</em> in front of it set off alarm bells in my head. I didn’t want to use Corin as some kind of crutch. Or a drug to drown my sorrows in. Especially not when it sounded like it would be hard to wean myself off later.</p><p>Corin shrugged. “If you ever change your mind, the offer is always open.”</p><p>I pursed my lips. And kept my eyes on the swirling streams of bleach sloshing past my feet, and pouring through the holes in the central grate, into the unfathomable depths below.</p><p>“Do you really think I’m <em>that </em>bad at being a vampire?” I asked, self-consciously.</p><p>I figured the answer was a solid yes. But I wanted to hear Corin’s opinion. Just how terrible was I?</p><p>To my astonishment however, she disagreed.</p><p>“You’re actually doing quite well for a newborn,” Corin unexpectedly praised. “I sometimes forget that you <em>are </em>one. Alice’s mate acted more like one today than you did,” she added under her breath, like it was something scandalous.</p><p>I grimaced. Jasper had been rather <em>savage </em>today—the way Alice had taught me newborns were supposed to act. It was impossible to miss that.</p><p>And yet, despite my sour feelings about his evident suffering, I felt a bit buoyed up by Corin’s remarks.</p><p>“You really think I’m doing well?” I asked, incredulous.</p><p>Corin nodded. Then she dipped her mop in the bucket again, before spreading it across a new section of floor. And, though I technically outranked her, I followed her lead. After all, this was an area in which she had more experience. </p><p>“Yes. I think so. It’s easy for me to forget how difficult hunting is at first,” She confessed. “I came to terms with it myself a long time ago. But I know you don’t resist your thirst for bad reasons—you care about people. Which is usually a good thing.”</p><p><em>Not when you have to murder people. </em> </p><p>“And I also know you are also trying as hard as you can to do everything Alice and our masters need you to,” Corin added, as a further assurance of her faith in me. “I’m guessing it can’t be easy when she hasn’t told you everything yet.”</p><p>This assertion made me stop short. “What?”</p><p>“Oh please, Isabella,” Corin pleaded with me to see reason, her voice dropping to a whisper so low that, even with my enhanced hearing, it could only barely be heard over the squelching of her mop. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? That Alice suspects one of us? I mean, I hate to agree with <em>Afton, </em>on anything. He’s a <em>moron. </em>But he’s right. One of us would be most able to avoid being seen in Alice’s visions.”</p><p>I pursed my lips. Corin had a point.    </p><p>I’d thought at first, when Marcus had shared the coven’s history with me, that we were looking for an enemy coven. Someone who resented the Volturi for their hold over them—like the Egyptians or the Romanians.</p><p>Then, when Aro had showed me his board of pins, marking every vampire in the world, I’d thought, perhaps our culprit was a traitor. A former Volturi member. Someone who had known Alice that was no longer with us. And there was still a possibility that was true.</p><p>But what if all the three brothers’ outside searching was a ruse? What if the real reason we hadn’t interrogated anyone yet, was because Alice suspected the enemy was one of the <em>current </em>Volturi? And Aro, Marcus and Caius’ list needed to be shortened, not out of logistics, but because Aro didn’t want to alienate too many of his loyal followers with accusations of treason?</p><p>It made altogether too much sense.</p><p>And it would also explain why Alice had been so vague with her explanations. Why she hadn’t shared any concrete plans of attack. Why Alice hadn’t shown me what she’d seen me do with my powers. Even though that was something extremely important. Something that I ought to be training to do right away.</p><p>It also made sense of what the coven leaders had done so far. Why all the combat Caius trained me in was generic stuff everyone else already knew. Why Marcus’ lessons hadn’t gone into much detail about newborn armies, even though that was what we were going up against. Why Aro’s etiquette and marching patterns were so bland….</p><p>I realized they were training me in every way they could to make me a functional member of the guard. But there were some things they couldn’t teach me yet. Not when I might accidentally tell someone else. And that someone else might turn out to be our enemy.</p><p>I felt a rush of horror wash through me. Then I looked over my shoulder, watching surreptitiously as the other guard members, even the six bodyguards who’d been lurking in the stone antechamber, worked on different sections of the large circular room.</p><p>My eyes flicked suspiciously over them. And I couldn’t help but wonder…</p><p>
  <em>Was Corin right? Was there a traitor in this very room? </em>
</p><p>My first thought was of Aro. With his power, the likelihood of anyone he interacted with being the culprit was slim to none. <em>Obviously, he would see it in their thoughts right away</em>, I rationalized as my eyes fell on his form, milling about, overseeing the cleanup.</p><p>
  <em>But then again, if whoever the culprit is could evade Alice’s powers so completely, perhaps they could dodge his as well?</em>
</p><p>Alice had mentioned earlier that Jane could make her mind go blank and not think about what she was doing whenever she wanted to hide certain things from Aro. So perhaps others had picked up that skill?</p><p>I didn’t like that idea one bit.</p><p>My eyes flicked to Chelsea next, mopping near the room’s dim entrance. She didn’t look up when I stared at her. And I wondered, as my eyes sank into the curtain of light-brown hair that obscured her pale face, if she knew who it was.</p><p>
  <em>Could that be the secret to her anger? Could it be that she wasn’t really angry with me? But with someone else?</em>
</p><p>My eyes moved again, toward the other person who might have some inkling of what was going on. Chelsea could manipulate emotional ties. So, I imagined she must have some sense for their current state. But Marcus could <em>see</em> emotional bonds very clearly in his head.</p><p>Aro had described it to me once. It was like a fiber-optic network. Or a thousand neural pathways lit up with bright, flickering lights. Each string represented a relationship. The thicker and brighter the strand, the stronger the bond. And the color of the strand gave some indication of the type of relationship it was. Bonds built on mutual trust and understanding glowed blue. Bonds forged out of a need for revenge glowed red. And those built on love were the brightest of all, glowing a whitish silver.</p><p>There were other colors, of course. Relationships were complex. And it had taken Aro and Marcus hundreds of years to make sense of what they were seeing. And there were still parts of his power that mystified them.</p><p>Like why, even after all this time, Didyme’s line connecting her to Marcus still glowed, silvery and bright as ever, when she was obviously dead. When Marcus had seen her glittering ashes, and his son’s slightly smaller pile beside them, for himself.   </p><p>But as I looked up at Marcus, who had resumed sitting on his throne, now that the feast was over, and studied his expression, I was itching to know what he saw. The way his brows were narrowed right now, contracting his dusky skin, made me suspect he was seeing something suspicious.</p><p>Perhaps, <em>he</em> knew the identity of the traitor?</p><p>I couldn’t be sure. And the longer I watched Marcus furrow his brow and think very hard, the more convinced I became that not even he could be sure.</p><p>After all, what if what he was seeing, was just another mistake?</p><p>I swallowed, and turned my head back toward the floor I was mopping. As my head wandered away from Marcus’ stiff form, I noticed Alice was cleaning the floor nearest to the dais steps leading up to the thrones. And I paused my neck’s movements to observe her.</p><p>Her back was turned to me as she worked. Someone had handed her a big, fluffy white towel, which she was now using to wipe down the ancient stones. And soon enough Corin handed me a towel of my own, to signify that we were moving on to the drying stage.</p><p>I turned briefly to take the towel from her hands. Then I turned right back around to look at Alice again. I had so many questions for her now.</p><p>
  <em>Was keeping me in the dark about so many things all part of the plan? And how robust was her plan really? How meticulously had she plotted our future?</em>
</p><p>But when I turned around again, Alice was simply gone.</p><p>She’d vanished. Without a trace.</p><p>…</p><p>Corin and I kept talking while we finished drying off our section of the floor. She spoke to me a little bit about her own experiences as a newborn. Which made me feel a lot better. Apparently, during her first meal with the other Volturi, she’d been so thirsty that she’d shoved Aro out of the way—a big no-no.</p><p>Somehow, I laughed at that. It was horrible, in a way, that Corin had been so thirsty, that she would violently push past her master in her haste to kill a human being. But it was also kind of relatable now. After all, for a split second there, I’d wanted to steal Jasper’s meal. To shove him out of the way, so I could sink my teeth in where his had been.</p><p>I tried not to think about that specific monstrosity I’d nearly committed too hard. My stomach wasn’t completely settled yet. Blood still sloshed around inside it, not fully absorbed. There was so much blood in my system already, left-over from my human life, that my absorption rate was slower. At least, that was Alice’s theory as to why I took a little longer to digest than others.</p><p>We moved on to other topics after we stopped chuckling. I learned Corin had an embroidery hobby. She sewed too, but she especially liked stitching little flowers into everything she made. And she said, if I wanted, she could stitch my favorite flower onto a little handkerchief or something.</p><p>I declined the offer for now. I wasn’t even sure what my favorite flower was. Hyacinth? Lily of the Valley? Lavender? One of the desert flowers back in Phoenix? When I’d dated Edward, it had been freesia. But so much had changed since then. I wasn’t sure any of the answers I’d given him when he’d grilled me about my favorites had stayed the same.</p><p>My favorite color certainly wasn’t brown any more. Before it had served as a rare reminder of warmth, of and of home. But now, brown was <em>everywhere</em>. And as weird as it felt to admit, I <em>missed </em>the over-abundance of green back in Forks.</p><p>I wasn’t sure it had grown enough on me to be called my <em>favorite </em>color. But I was starting to wonder if I should ask Alice for a fake, plastic plant in my room all the same. I’d become accustomed to the ever-present foliage. And I was starting to think this place would never quite feel like home without some. Even if it was fake.</p><p>Corin and I discussed my hobbies next. I told her I liked reading, but hadn’t been able to do much since my transformation, since I was worried I might accidentally rip any book I was trying to read in half when I went to turn the page.</p><p>Corin was sympathetic. She’d torn a lot of fabric when she’d first started embroidery. And she offered to give me some scrap muslin to test my control over my strength with—something she wouldn’t mind at all if I shredded to ribbons.</p><p>I thanked her, knowing I would probably take her up on that. And, despite my earlier reservations, we were tentative friends by the time the floor was finally cleaned and dried.</p><p>While we put our mops, buckets and towels away in a little supply closet not far from the secret entrance, and filed slowly back into the room, Vera pulled something out from the depths of her dark cloak. It was the same, large silver flask I’d seen last time. A flask filled with heavy, pungent gasoline.</p><p>I could smell it from all the way across the room as Vera poured quite a lot down the drain in the center of the room. Chemical. A little sweet. But at the same time harboring an edge of toxicity.</p><p>I wrinkled my nose. In most ways it smelled much better than the bleach. The harsh chlorine scent was so strong, I swear I could <em>taste </em>it burning in the back of my sinuses. But I knew the scent that was going to follow the gasoline was going to be less pleasant.</p><p>Vera pulled a matchbox out of some unseen pocket. Struck a match. And let the little stick of flame fall between the bars of the metal grate, into the fathomless depths below.</p><p>The bodies buried in the piles of ash beneath the grate roared ablaze a second later. And, though my nose was wrinkled, the smell of cooking flesh, once again burned my nostrils. A thousand times worse than before.</p><p>I felt the bile rising in my throat. <em>All those bodies… </em></p><p>And it took everything I had to keep it down as I ran from the room.</p><p>…</p><p>I don’t think I’d ever brushed my teeth so hard in my entire life.</p><p>I was a little worried that I might sand off my own teeth. The toothbrush Alice had provided me had steel bristles, and a handle that looked suspiciously like it was made of tungsten. Of course, I couldn’t be sure. I was still learning my metals. But the point was it was very strong. And I didn’t want to repeat an incident like the one with the soap and my shoulder with my teeth.</p><p>But I just couldn’t help myself. When the smell of those bodies, cooking beneath my feet, reached my nose, I felt like a disgusting monster all over again. And the only way to get that feeling to go away was to get clean.</p><p>Preferably as quickly as possible. </p><p>The steel bristles easily scraped all of the evidence away, which was extremely relieving. I didn’t want to have to worry about bloodstained teeth. But the once pleasant minty taste of the toothpaste was sour and rancid to my tastebuds now. So, rather than take my time, I scrubbed vigorously for a few seconds, then quickly spit it out.</p><p>When I was done, I turned the sink’s chrome knobs—mangled from previous use—to rinse out my mouth. I splashed some of the sink’s water over my hands, too. Then reached for another specially crafted bar of soap resting on a little dish, and very gently scrubbed any dried blood off my hands.</p><p>I put the soap back in its little dish only a fraction of a second after grabbing it. It gleamed dimly under the florescent bathroom lighting like my skin. A reminder of the diamonds that lurked inside.</p><p>Then I toweled off my hands. And took the first, tentative glance in the mirror.</p><p>I didn’t look anywhere near as bad as last time. I hadn’t gotten any blood in my hair. Or on my legs. A few droplets of scarlet littered my jacket here and there, the spots getting thicker around my collar and my wrists—the places that had been closest to my victim’s spurting arteries. But it wasn’t horror-movie levels of gore.  </p><p>I might have even been able to deem the mess acceptable, if it weren’t for the thick mass of dried blood smeared messily around my lips, clinging to my chin and trailing down my neck.</p><p>As my eyes followed it down, my curious gaze turned into one of horror.</p><p>Feeding on human beings and liking it was one thing. But seeing the evidence of the fact that I was a savage murderer now was much, much worse. It made me feel rotten to the core. And even more alien than usual in my own skin.  </p><p>I tore my eyes away from my reflection before my stomach could lurch again. And turned the sink knobs frantically, until they sprayed water into the porcelain bowl again. Then I grabbed the soap, and viciously began to scrub.</p><p>My skin felt a little raw when I was finished. But I was clean. And my skin healed very quickly.</p><p>Just as I was about to leave the bathroom, however, I remembered something important. I had forgotten to floss.</p><p>I wasn’t sure if vampires <em>needed </em>to floss. But as I ran my tongue over my teeth, I felt <em>something </em>stuck between them at odd intervals. And I knew, even if I would never get another cavity in my entire life, that I wouldn’t want to walk around with whatever <em>that</em> was in my mouth forever.</p><p>Figuring Alice had prepared for this, I dropped to my knees in front of the sink, and wrenched the cabinet door open. It came off its hinges entirely, much to my frustration. But the door wasn’t in too bad of shape itself. So rather than breaking it up and throwing it into the trash, I simply set it down on the tile floor beside me. And peered into the shelves under the sink.</p><p>Alice had stocked the shelves here just as well as everywhere else in my room. I’d thought, since vampires didn’t need skincare products or a great number of other things humans needed—like nail clippers—that the shelves would be pretty bare. But I was mistaken.</p><p>I counted eighteen separate bottles of scented bodywash, each with a unique blend of herbs, chemicals and essential oils. Every brand of toothpaste—I guess, in case I wanted to find which kind had the most tolerable flavor. And, next to a huge stack of big fluffy towels, a rack of expensive designer perfumes I had no clue what to do with. <em>What was the point in wearing perfume when my natural scent was already better than anything a human could craft?</em>  </p><p>After a bit more searching, I found the floss. Normal floss wouldn’t be strong enough, of course. But Alice had set aside a few small metal wires that were thin enough to slide between my teeth in a plastic bag in the back, which she had labeled <em>floss </em>in florid Sharpie.</p><p>When I picked up the bag, I noticed there was also a little note inside. A note which read:</p><p>
  <em>Be careful. This wire is pretty sharp. Try not to cut up your gums. </em>
</p><p>She’d drawn a little smiley face after the last line. And I had to repress the urge to burst into hysterical laughter as I opened the little bag, and took out one of the little wires. Leave it to Alice to try to turn this situation into something lighthearted and fun.</p><p>After shaking my head, I rose to my feet again, so I watch myself carefully in the mirror. Then I inserted the little wire between my furthest molar and the next one in on my right side—one of the places where I felt something stuck between my teeth. And slowly, methodically, began to rock the wire back and forth.</p><p>I hadn’t really given what I might find there much thought. Flossing had been such a routine habit in my human life that, although my tools were slightly different now to accommodate my increased strength, I hadn’t even bothered to stop an consider that anything would be off.</p><p>Of course, when the little wire came back up with a small, remarkably mushy, tannish chunk sticking to it, I immediately recognized what I was seeing. And I nearly lost my dinner over it.</p><p>
  <em>Human skin. </em>
</p><p>In my teeth.</p><p>Oh God, that was<em> nasty</em>.</p><p>The little wire I had been holding immediately fell into the sink, and disappeared down the drain. My knees felt wobbly all of a sudden. And my hands had to reach out and clutch the edges of the sink to prevent me from falling backwards.</p><p>This was just too much.</p><p>Bile pooled in my throat instinctively in response to the horrible vision. And though I tried to reign in the impulse, I reflexively choked. I spit a sizeable glob of half-digested blood starkly into the sink. Then my throat seized again, ready to spit more out. </p><p>I panicked when I realized what was happening—that I was losing some of the progress I’d made today. That if I kept vomiting, I might be forced to feed again. To kill again.</p><p>So, before any more than that first glob could come out, I forcibly tilted my head backward. And made myself swallow the rest.</p><p>It wasn’t very comfortable to force my dinner back down my pulsing throat. It felt chunky and wrong. And its taste was ruined by the sickly-sweet taste of my own venom.</p><p>But the alternative—having to kill another innocent person—was much worse. So, I forced myself to do it. And when I finally managed to get my esophagus to stop spasming, I took a few deep breaths. And waited until the nausea abated.</p><p>It took a few minutes to go away entirely. Minutes I was willing to wait.</p><p>Then, when it was finally gone, I fumblingly turned the sink valves to wash away the splatter of regurgitated blood I’d left behind. I didn’t look. But simply let the water run for a few seconds, listening to the rush of the faucet, to know when the basin was clean.</p><p>When the sound changed, I took another few deep breaths, checking if the coppery scent was flushed away. Checking to see if it had been replaced with the scent of the sterile, faintly floral air. And once I received that confirmation, I reached for another little wire.</p><p><em>I can do this, </em>I affirmed to myself, trembling as I hefted the small metal object and bent it effortlessly around my fingers in preparation to slide it between my next set of teeth. <em>It’s just a little skin… that’s all. Besides, you don’t really want that to stay in your mouth forever, right? </em></p><p>I coughed as my extremely unhelpful imagination conjured up an image of decaying, moldy bits of flesh lingering in my mouth after thousands of years. And I nearly dropped the wire again.</p><p>
  <em>Ewwww… ick, bleh! Oh gross! </em>
</p><p>Definitely didn’t want that.</p><p>So, with the horrifying consequence of not flossing fresh in mind, I courageously returned to the activity. I winced a bit whenever I came across something gooey. And I even shrieked a few times when the yield was particularly large.</p><p>But after several painful minutes of see-sawing those little wires back and forth between my teeth, and staunchly avoiding looking in the sink, I made it all the way across both the top and bottom row. Then I furiously rinsed out my mouth about a hundred times to make sure that I had absolutely nothing human left in there. And the appalling chore was finally finished.</p><p>I felt a moment of reprieve. Then, suddenly, I heard someone coming this way.</p><p>I tensed automatically, my instincts suspecting the worst. But I would recognize the clack of those stilettos anywhere. <em>Alice. </em></p><p>She opened the door to my room. And I walked out of the bathroom to greet her, I was hoping that maybe she could answer some of the questions Corin had raised in me earlier. But before I could get out a single word, she abruptly froze in the doorway.</p><p>At first, I thought that I had spooked her. Or maybe she had seen my decision to ask her about her plans, and the futures she saw spiraling out from that decision were bad ones.  </p><p>But I quickly realized the expression on her marble face was not the slightly startled look I had been expecting. Instead, the look I saw in her wide crimson eyes was the strangest combination of excitement and confusion. And the words that spilled out of her lips next were ones I could have never predicted.</p><p>“It’s Jasper and Aro. They’ve returned!”</p><p>“So soon?” I asked urgently.</p><p>Aro and Jasper had only been absent from the castle for, at most, a half hour. And I had a hard time believing they’d been able to quench Jasper’s thirst that quickly. Not if they wanted to hunt far away enough from their city not to draw attention.</p><p>I knew vampires were fast. But had they really just taken one of the Volturi cars to Florence, let Jasper gobble up the first few people he saw, and sped right back?</p><p>That sounded… foolhardy. </p><p>“Yeah, Jasper didn’t want to take too long. He found something in Seattle on his way over. Something he brought with him in his luggage. Something he wanted to show us earlier, but was too thirsty to.” Alice revealed cryptically. “Something that might help us find the culprit.”</p><p>My eyes shot open wide. <em>Really?</em></p><p>Now I was even more curious. But before I could ask what exactly Jasper had found, Alice hopped to her feet. Dashed to the door. And motioned with an insistent hand out into the ancient hallway.</p><p>“Let’s go!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you like my work, please consider dropping a comment down below. They really make my day!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>CHAPTER EIGHT: SUSPICION</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>The Volturi do not break rules. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Besides it’s much to sloppy. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>This person, this threat—they have no idea what they’re doing. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A first-timer, I’d swear to it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I cannot believe the Volturi are involved. </em>
</p><p>- Jasper, Eclipse, Chapter 13</p><p>…</p><p>Alice and I walked swiftly to the conference room. She spread the news to any guard members we met along the way that Aro and Jasper were coming back. And they, I guess, told everyone they ran into. So, it was only a matter of two or three minutes before all of the members of the Volturi guard and family were congregated in the rectangular room.</p><p>We were lined up according to the darkness of our cloaks in the same, rigid formation we’d taken during my induction. A formation I’d been trained to stand in well. Even if it still rubbed me the wrong way.</p><p>I’d never liked any social arrangement that pitted people against each other. Which made the whole hierarchal structure uncomfortable. But if especially bothered me that Alec and Jane stood to my left, ahead of me in the hierarchy. And Chelsea stood to my right, ranking just below me.</p><p>I didn’t care about Aro’s rankings themselves. He could have put me <em>behind Afton </em>for all I cared. But I wasn’t too fond of being next to three vampires who didn’t like me that much.</p><p>I had enough to deal with as it was, without worrying about incurring the wrath of three powerful vampires. And the oppressive silence that had settled over the front row while we waited for Jasper and Aro to come back was not helping matters.</p><p>It only seemed to make Chelsea’s fists ball tighter at her sides. And make Jane’s tiny body quake with more fury. And even Alec, who normally kept his cool, wore a thin wrinkle of concern across his adolescent forehead.</p><p>I swallowed when I saw it. <em>Had I done something to upset him too? I mean, other than bother his sister?</em></p><p>I couldn’t be sure. As hard as I tried to keep up with all of the complicated etiquette around here, I knew I’d probably slipped up around him a few times. All the rigid formalities went against my instincts.</p><p>But as we stood perfectly still, and the next rows filed into place behind us, I couldn’t wait for a distraction. Anything to take Jane, Alec and Chelsea’s minds off me.</p><p>Luckily, we didn’t have to wait long. As soon as the last vampire, Afton, slunk into place, and the whispering sound of his fluttering cloak fell silent as it stilled, we all heard another sound. Two pairs of footsteps heading our direction.</p><p>Aro’s scent was automatically recognizable—pine and cinnamon. And Jasper’s, having smelt it once before was also easy to pick out—eucalyptus and saffron. There was no one else with them. And that fact made me sigh with relief.</p><p>I wasn’t sure I could handle the anxiety of another surprise visitor in one day.</p><p>The footsteps swelled louder, until they were just outside the two large, gilt doors that led into this room. Then we heard someone grab the large gold rings that served as door handles. And we all watched closely when that same someone dramatically swung them open.</p><p>It was Aro who floated into the room first. He had donned modern clothes again—an expensive Italian suit, and polished leather dress shoes. I guess he only wore robes when he was staying inside the fortress. Though, he’d kept on his void-black cloak. And, of course, the silvery, v-shaped pendant that represented his organization.</p><p>Jasper came in next, striding gracefully, only a few feet behind the ancient vampire. And though he hadn’t changed his clothes—he was still wearing a dark turtleneck sweater, cowboy boots, and jeans—he looked quite different as well. The dark circles underneath his eyes were completely gone. His skin had lost its sickly green tinge. His cheeks were flushed ever so slightly pink. And his irises were a vivid, startling crimson.</p><p>I stared at his eyes for a long moment. It was <em>weird </em>seeing him with that color after so many months of either black or gold. So weird that I almost didn’t notice what he was holding.</p><p>As he passed one of the twenty or so wrought iron candelabras lining the conference room walls, the orange light glinted off something metallic draped over his shoulder. And my eyes automatically flicked to examine it.</p><p>It was a long coil of heavy metal chain nearly as thick around as Jasper. I wasn’t sure what it was made of—I didn’t know my alloys very well. But it was long enough to drag for several feet on the floor behind him, clanking noisily. And it looked very sturdy. Like something that might be used to anchor an aircraft carrier. </p><p>I spent another moment scrutinizing the chain, wondering what it was for. But it wasn’t even the most surprising thing. I nearly gasped when I saw Jasper’s expression. Though he looked <em>healthier</em>, he certainly didn’t look <em>happier</em>.</p><p>His expression was one of cavernous gloom. I guessed the murders he’d committed today were taking their toll.</p><p>I only had a twenty-eighth of a second to sympathize with his pain, though. Because just then Alice spoke. And her bright, cheery voice broke me out of the spell.</p><p>“Jasper!” Alice called, giving him a happy little wave. “You look healthier.”</p><p>Jasper did not respond in kind. Instead, he gave her only the briefest of glances, before looking pointedly at the floor, and gritting his teeth.</p><p>I winced. That probably wasn’t a good sign.</p><p>Alice recoiled like Jasper had suddenly doused her in scalding water. Then her painted lips parted, ready to say something—I guessed something somewhat confrontationally, based on the arch of her inky eyebrows. </p><p>But before she could get out a single word, Aro quickly raised both of his hands in a halting gesture. At once, Alice’s lips obediently snapped shut. Though she crossed her arms over her chest and scowled like Caius sometimes did when Aro didn’t let him have his way.</p><p>It was something I might have found humorous under other circumstances. But right now, Alice’s icy expression only made me more anxious. Combined with her strange behavior towards Jasper lately, and the suspicions Corin had raised in me, it didn’t bode well.</p><p>
  <em>Alice couldn’t really suspect <strong>Jasper</strong>, could she? </em>
</p><p>He hadn’t met her until after she’d already seen the vision of the upcoming calamity. So, given that he would have had no knowledge of her powers until then, he was an extremely unlikely candidate.</p><p>But if <em>that </em>wasn’t the reason for their coldness towards each other, then what was?</p><p>I knew that the disagreements they had over their diets couldn’t account for all of it.</p><p>“Dearest Alice,” Aro murmured softly, forcing my attention back to him. “Now is not the time. Surely you ought to know what Jasper has found. And what we must discuss?”</p><p>Alice nodded.</p><p>Aro nodded back, looking pleased. Then he broke away from Jasper’s side, floated over to the three thrones at the head of the room, and took a seat between his brothers.</p><p>Once Aro was seated, his bright eyes flicked over toward the back of the room. His eyes roved over Afton and a few of the other lower ranking guards, before he honed back in on Jasper, who still lingered behind our formation.</p><p>“Dear Jasper, if you would not mind showing us what you found while passing through Seattle?” Aro said, beckoning him forward.</p><p>Jasper said nothing. But walked quickly past the five rows of black cloaks, dragging the heavy chain with him. Then he crossed in front of our lineup, until he was standing right in front of Aro’s throne.</p><p>There he came to a sudden stop. And dropped the heavy chain.</p><p>It rattled loudly when it hit the floor. And I swore I heard several of the stones crack under the immense weight and pressure.</p><p>Aro winced slightly. “Carefully, now,” he cautioned. “I do hate having to call in so many repairs.”</p><p>The tone of Aro’s voice clearly suggested he was angling for an apology. But Jasper didn’t look apologetic in the slightest. His face remained hard and impassive. So, after a second, Aro sighed and decided to drop it.</p><p>“But that is neither here nor there. Do any of you understand what this is?” he asked, pointing towards the pile of coiled metal.</p><p>Every member of the guard—including me—shook their heads. I wasn’t sure if they all really had no idea or not. Perhaps some did know, and were simply keeping that knowledge to themselves. But I knew <em>I </em>had no clue why Jasper had lugged the massive thing here.</p><p>Aro raised a single eyebrow. “None of you?”</p><p>He seemed genuinely shocked. And maybe a little hurt.</p><p>“None of you recall my latest project? What I have been laboring this last century with our contractors to produce?”</p><p>Suddenly, I did recall. Marcus’ words on the subject poured into my head.</p><p>
  <em>I believe Aro has been working with them for the last century on making metal sturdy enough to withstand our prodigious strength</em>
  <em>. He’s hoping to replace the old grates in the sewer entrances with something a lot more likely to keep our enemies out. As well as perhaps make cages or chains that could restrain our kind. I have not seen the results myself. But I have heard that the prototypes are performing quite nicely. </em>
</p><p>And I went stiff with shock. <em>Could this be one of his prototypes? </em></p><p>I decided to ask.</p><p>“Did your—um, <em>our</em>—” I corrected, remembering I was a part of the Volturi now, “—private contractors make that?”</p><p>Aro nodded. “Yes, Isabella, you are correct,” he praised, beaming. But his pleasant expression faded quickly. “Though it is <em>strange</em> that our <em>newest </em>member knows this, and no one else,” he said with an accusatorial edge. “I would have thought<em> any</em> of the rest of you to be much more likely to remember.”</p><p>The guard did not miss that Aro was implying. That their unwillingness to speak up when there was no possible way they could have forgotten, was suspicious.</p><p>But every face, including Alice’s, remained stony; unanimated. No one was going to incriminate themselves further by coming to their own defense.</p><p>While the guard betrayed nothing with their expressions, Aro reached out to his right suddenly. He held his palm facing upward, out toward Marcus. And I realized instantly what he wanted.</p><p>Marcus realized instantly as well. Though he moved to comply with deliberate sluggishness. I guessed, to convey his reluctance.</p><p>When their hands finally connected—a clash of ashy brown on pale almond—the room was absolutely silent. Except for the soft hiss of flickering flame coming from the candles surrounding us. And the tiny sound of Aro’s eyelids fluttering closed.</p><p>And it remained silent, even when Aro suddenly lifted his head. He didn’t say anything after getting up to speed with Marcus’ thoughts. And he did not let go of Marcus’ hand right away. Instead, holding it fast, he scanned the rows of cloaks in front of him.</p><p>As Aro’s eyes roved coldly over each of us, searching and judging, I couldn’t help but think that Corin was right. That he suspected there was a traitor in our midst who had stolen both the chain, and was responsible for the chaotic plot to bring about vampire extinction.</p><p>When Aro’s eyes landed on me, I tensed automatically, even though I knew I had nothing to fear. <em>I </em>wasn’t a traitor. But there was a hint of steel in his eyes now that he’d seen Marcus’ thoughts that made me <em>terrified</em> about what he might say, regardless.</p><p>After making his silent judgment—a judgement I hoped was in agreement with my innocence—Aro released Marcus’ hand suddenly. And hummed, finally breaking the tension.</p><p>“Interesting.”</p><p>I wasn’t sure what Aro had seen. But I wasn’t alone in that.</p><p>Only Alice might have some idea. And even then, she would be limited to a vague impression, based on the consequences. She couldn’t read minds.</p><p>Though it was hardly necessary, I cleared my throat to grab everyone’s attention. It worked a little <em>too</em> well, causing all eyes in the room to shoot toward me. But I tried not to let my anxiety get the best of me, and remember to use my manners as I spoke.</p><p>“I don’t mean to be rude, but if you don’t mind me asking, um, what happened while you were out?”</p><p>Aro smiled genially. “Not at all. Of course, nothing noteworthy really occurred,” he supplied—though the deeply depressed look on Jasper’s face said otherwise. “Though, I suppose a quick synopsis would not hurt.”</p><p>Without warning, Aro turned to Jasper and held out a hand toward the younger vampire. “Jasper, why don’t you tell the story?”</p><p>Jasper made a face. He obviously didn’t like being ordered around. But without any further protest, he complied.</p><p>“We went to Florence to hunt about a half hour ago,” he began, his voice curt and stiff.</p><p>“It’s the middle of the day, so of course we had to be discreet. I would have waited until nightfall. But my thirst…” he scratched at his throat, just recalling how bad it had been. “…was severe. So, we went downtown to the thickest part of the city, keeping to the shadows, the places where hapless, young, single, tourists often go missing anyway…”</p><p>Jasper trailed off, gritting his teeth again and bowing his head. He obviously hated that he’d done that. That he’d hidden with Aro in the shadows and waited to pounce. And that he’d been so thirsty, he’d been compelled to kill more innocent people.</p><p>Seeing how wild he’d been before, I imagined Aro had been the one to decide who lived and who died. That he’d restrained the younger vampire in some dark alley until he saw someone strolling past who he thought the world would hardly miss. Then, when they were close enough, he’d let Jasper loose.</p><p>I felt a brief flash of terror. <em>How would that look to the victim?</em></p><p>Would they see a flash of something glittering and dangerous, before they were cruelly pried away from everything? Would they have the wherewithal to scream? Did Aro have to snap their necks so they didn’t make any noise? Did anyone notice Jasper’s skin refracting in the light before his victim was dragged back into the darkness? Did anyone <em>see</em>?</p><p>I figured nothing had gotten <em>too </em>out of control. Aro didn’t have even a single hair out of place. And his clothes were equally immaculate—nothing to suggest he’d grappled with any unintended witnesses.</p><p>But I still wondered.</p><p>As I thought it through, Jasper continued with his tale. “I was very thirsty. With Aro’s assistance, I took four more victims.”</p><p>I stiffened. <em>Four?</em></p><p>My mind had conjured a thousand different pictures of the two men hunting in the city. But this new number forced me to change them. One or two bodies were easily dealt with. Especially with a little gasoline and lighter to conceal the most incriminating evidence. But <em>four</em>?</p><p>
  <em>How had they gotten rid of them all? Thrown them into a nearby river? </em>
</p><p>I frowned. I realized suddenly, I was being a bit callous, obsessing over the logistics. So, I forced myself to think again, of the seven who’d died. And silently mourned them.</p><p>“We were quick,” Jasper informed us in a small voice.</p><p>I felt a little better hearing that. If there was any consolation for Jasper’s human victims, it was that they hadn’t suffered for very long. Jasper drank quicker than any other vampire I’d ever seen. And had a tendency to be so rough with his victims that they were dead on impact.</p><p>I imagined it was easier on Jasper’s empathetic powers that way. When their horror and pain only lasted a second. </p><p>“When I was finished, I was a little…” Jasper gestured to his chin, “…dirty. So, we snuck inside an empty public restroom to clean up.”</p><p>“Did anyone see you?” I asked. Then, seeing everyone’s eyes narrowing at me, for interrupting, I added. “Sorry, I just—”</p><p>“Your concern for our secrecy is admirable, Isabella,” Aro cut in. “But I assure you we took every reasonable precaution. And, even if we were not so careful, and a human did see us before we took care of the mess, it would have looked like young Jasper had a simple nosebleed,” he explained. “You see, he might have been a bit… <em>enthusiastic </em>with his prey. But he is not an unpracticed newborn.” </p><p>I nodded, accepting. Aro was right. Vampires did become less sloppy eaters with age. At this point, most of the rest of the guard only left a few errant drops here and there. And Aro didn’t waste at all.</p><p>So, Jasper, having been a vampire for at least as long as Alice had, if not longer, was more than capable of mitigating his messes. Even when he was savagely thirsty.</p><p>But as Aro and I went over this, Jasper flinched. I guessed he didn’t like that we were rehashing all the logistical details. The cold, practical side of his kills.</p><p> “When we exited the men’s room,” Jasper went on, trying not to look as glum as he obviously felt, “Aro and I returned, and I fetched this chain from the luggage I brought here with me.”</p><p>“Luggage?” Vera blurted out suddenly, her voice sharp with suspicion. “And what <em>other </em>things did you bring with you, hmm?”</p><p>“Vera,” Aro cautioned.</p><p>“But Master, we have no proof that he isn’t still Carlisle’s spy!” the woman complained, jabbing an accusatory finger at Jasper.</p><p>“Other than the confirmation I have received from his own thoughts?” Aro challenged.</p><p>Vera came up short, realizing her mistake. Her face turned sour as she was forced to concede her master had a point. Then she shut her mouth without any further complaints.</p><p> Jasper went on. “When I first arrived here in Volterra, I didn’t see any reason to bring my belongings into your…” he struggled to find the appropriate words, “…feeding chamber,” he settled on. Which was an apt description of the turret room, if a bit crude. “So, I left them with your receptionist in th—”</p><p>Now it was Alice’s turn to interrupt. “The receptionist?” she blurted out. “You let yourself near <em>Gianna</em> when you were <em>that </em>thirsty?” </p><p>She winced. And I swallowed as I pictured Gianna, in all her beauty and refinery, rising from her mahogany desk to offer a cordial greeting. Or maybe politely asking if Jasper had an appointment. Only to be abruptly seized, and to have her neck torn into savagely with Jasper’s razor-sharp teeth.</p><p>It wasn’t like she could fight him off….</p><p>“I didn’t hurt her,” Jasper assured us quickly. “I…” He fidgeted uncomfortably. “I <em>wanted</em> to.” he clarified, upon seeing everyone’s incredulous looks. “Very badly. I kept <em>imagining </em>all the ways I could kill her.” Jasper shuddered. “But I didn’t.”</p><p>Jasper’s voice was full of self-loathing, and he bowed his head in shame. But I was having a hard time believing his emotions were founded. I was impressed that he had ultimately restrained himself. With how ravenous he looked, I found it doubtful that Jasper could curb his own instincts like that.</p><p>But perhaps I was underestimating him. </p><p>Of course, Alice looked just as shocked as me. She shook her head in complete disbelief. “What were you <em>thinking,</em> Jasper?”</p><p>“Your <em>master </em>wouldn’t like it if I killed one of his underlings without his permission,” he mumbled derisively through gritted teeth. Then he threw a fleeting, caustic glance towards Aro.</p><p>I glanced at him too, wondering what the older vampire would make of this. But Aro, for his part seemed amused by Jasper’s anger, rather than perturbed.</p><p>“That’s not what I meant,” Alice said with a tight-lipped frown. “I meant how could you resist? I <em>saw </em>you make the decision not to harm her. And I knew you wouldn’t. But how could you risk that? Your eyes were <em>black</em>!”</p><p>Jasper swallowed. “It wasn’t easy. Not by any means,” he admitted guiltily. “But after the flight—after spending nineteen hours packed in with hundreds of humans in an air-tight metal tube, forcing myself not to breathe so I wouldn’t be overwhelmed by their scents, but still hearing all that blood <em>pulsing, </em>and feeling the heat of so many bodies, knowing that it would be so easy to just lean over the person sitting beside me and—”</p><p>Jasper’s teeth clicked together sharply. Then he shook himself out of the memory and exhaled, “Nothing could be harder than that.”   </p><p>I grimaced. Even fully sated, Jasper’s tale had made a little heat flare up in my throat. Being packed in an airplane with so many humans for so long….</p><p>I could easily understand the temptation.</p><p>While I shuddered in sympathetic horror, Jasper suddenly remembered something. He frowned as it crossed his mind. And sighed, realizing he had to amend his story.</p><p>“Except resisting Edward’s bloodlust for you,” Jasper added, giving me an apologetic look. “Even with Carlisle’s help, and the emotions being secondhand, his need to drink your blood was too strong. I nearly killed you.” He pursed his lips, displeased with himself. “I’m still very sorry about that, by the way.”</p><p>I blinked, astonished. “You don’t need to apologize. I understand now why it was so difficult for you. I probably would have done the same, had I been in your shoes.”</p><p><em>I probably would have been worse, even, </em>I thought, but didn’t add. There was no need to turn this into some kind of morbid contest.</p><p>The corner of Jasper’s lip twitched into what was <em>almost </em>a wry smile. Then there was a beat of silence, before Aro suggested we get back to business.    </p><p>“Now, if you would allow Jasper to finish his story without any further interruptions…?”</p><p>Alice nodded fiercely. And gestured for Jasper to keep going.</p><p>Jasper pursed his lips into a fine line. Then, after receiving a nod from Aro, he concluded his story.</p><p>“After I retrieved the chain from my luggage, I brought it here. And now you know everything. Any questions?”</p><p>He obviously hadn’t been expecting anyone to respond. But as soon as Jasper was finished, Alec piped up.</p><p>“Do the Cullens have any connection to this chain?” he asked, his adolescent voice acrid with mistrust.</p><p>Jasper leapt to his family’s defense instantly. “Of <em>course</em>, not!”  </p><p>Alec narrowed his eyes, still not quite buying it. But his sister was quick to accept it, and instead, moved right on to the next accusation.</p><p>“And how did <em>you</em> know it was ours?” Jane demanded, her high, girlish voice cold with suspicion.</p><p>She had a point. It was <em>highly suspicious</em> for Jasper to have just happened upon this chain and immediately known who it belonged to<em>. </em></p><p>But before any of us could speculate about Jasper’s loyalties, Aro reached down and turned over the chain so we could all see the Volturi insignia emblazoned on one of the thick metal links.</p><p>I nodded, understanding. <em>So that’s how Jasper knew who to give it too. </em></p><p>Aro straightened and looked Jasper directly in the eyes. “I am glad you brought this to me. And, before anyone suggests it,” he cut in, raising a forbidding hand. “I do not suspect he had anything to do with its displacement from our testing facilities.”</p><p>Jane, who’d opened her mouth half-way in preparation to speak, snapped it shut and pouted. She’d clearly been wanting to label him as the culprit. Probably because she knew it would hurt Alice. She was kind of petty like that.</p><p>“Where was the chain found?” Jane demanded in an eerie monotone, staring coldly at Jasper.</p><p>He crossed his arms, obviously irritated with her interrogation. But decided to oblige her anyway. “I found it abandoned in an alley near the Seattle airport. The insignia caught my eye,” he explained. “And I was already headed this way anyway to join you. So, I decided to bring it along. It was a coincidence, nothing more.”</p><p>“A rather <em>convenient</em> coincidence…” Alec muttered to himself.</p><p>“What was it doing in that alley?” Jane demanded next.</p><p>Jasper’s eyebrows knit together in confusion and frustration. “I don’t have the faintest clue,” he admitted. “Though the timing <em>is</em> suspicious. Alice?”</p><p>“I didn’t see who left it there,” she supplied, sighing. “I wasn’t watching for anything like that. But I have seen it before, in my visions. And I know our culprit—whoever they are—touched it.”</p><p>“How unfortunate that you did not see their face,” Aro interjected sadly.</p><p>And I agreed, that would make this all a lot easier.</p><p>Aro tapped his chin in thought. “But, since you are certain they did touch it, then, perhaps—” he wheeled to face Caius suddenly. “—your son could help us?”</p><p>Caius’ crimson eyes flared wide with shock. “My son?”</p><p>A ripple of astonishment passed through the guard immediately. And several members, despite their efforts to remain impassive, even gasped. I took that, combined with the look of angry surprise on Caius’ face to mean the two weren’t on the best of terms. And at once my curiosity was piqued.</p><p>
  <em>What was their story?</em>
</p><p>I knew Caius’ son, like Aro’s elder daughter, Valentina, had decided to leave the coven after reaching adulthood. But I’d never been given a real reason why in his case. And I was starting to doubt, based on the tinge of betrayal creeping in Caius’ furious expression, that it was simply a matter of a child wanting to go their own way.</p><p>“Theodore, yes,” Aro clarified casually, like he was discussing an old friend, not someone who was apparently a controversial figure. “I figure he may be able to help us locate the last person who touched the chains before Jasper found them. And—if they are not the same person—whoever stole them from our possession.”</p><p>Confused, I reached behind Alec and Jane to tap Alice on the shoulder. She whipped around to face me immediately.</p><p>“Why do they want to talk to Theodore?”</p><p>I didn’t bother whispering. I knew the twins would hear me anyway.</p><p>Alice, realizing I didn’t know this part of Volturi history, decided to fill me in. “Theodore might be able to help us. He has a talent for knowing where things come from,” she explained. “He can see every person who has touched that item and what they did with it. <em>Object history, </em>I think Aro calls it.”</p><p>My eyes widened in surprise. Caius’ son had a vampire talent? And such a neat one, too?</p><p>Suddenly, I felt like I might understand some of Caius’ ire with his son. It was kind of an open secret that Caius resented gifted vampires for having something he did not. And it also seemed to be the case that gifts were somewhat genetic, as evidenced by Renata and Makenna’s similar powers, and more directly, Titania and Lucretia’s telepathic talents that closely mirrored their father’s. So, for fate to make the powers in Caius’ family skip over him, but manifest in his son… </p><p>…Well, that had to feel terribly unfair.</p><p>Of course, there was always the possibility Theodore had inherited his powers from his mother’s side instead. It was difficult to tell where he’d gotten such a thing when Athenodora was just as talentless as Caius. But either way, Caius had to feel somewhat cheated.</p><p>Caius glowered. “You know my son will resent you sending Demetri after him, Aro,”</p><p>Aro shrugged. “Most likely,” he agreed. “However, his help may prove necessary. And, with this calamity ahead of us, now is hardly the time to be concerned with a few hurt feelings.”</p><p>“Is that the next step, then, Master?” Renata asked nervously. “To accompany you and the other Masters on a journey to locate Master Caius’ son?”</p><p>Aro smiled briefly toward Renata, before shaking his head. “Demetri does not need us to escort him. And besides, I am afraid we have a few things that need to be set in order first before we all leave Volterra. The first of which is the list of suspects dear Alice asked me to compile a month prior. A list of those I suspect could be the enemy in Alice’s vision.”</p><p>Renata nodded, understanding. Then, suddenly, Aro took out a scroll of parchment from an unseen pocket inside his cloak, and unfurled it.</p><p>From what he’d told me before, about his plan to whittle down the list of potential culprits, I’d expected the paper to be rather short. But to my astonishment, it rolled out of his lap, onto the floor, and a few feet out in front of him.  </p><p>“Is it finally finished?” Alice asked, scrutinizing the parchment dubiously. She too, seemed to think it was too long.</p><p>Aro frowned. “No. Caius and I persist in writing new drafts. He quibbles with me on the details.”</p><p>Caius leaned over in his throne and squinted at the list. “Neither the Romanians nor the Egyptians are on this list.”</p><p>Aro heaved an exasperated sigh, as though they’d been over this a thousand times. “The Romanians have not come anywhere <em>near </em>Italy in the last two centuries, Caius. True, it is possible that they could have heard of Alice’s power through other channels, and decided to act. But they would have had <em>fifteen-hundred years</em> to plan their counterattack. And this <em>chaos</em> does not strike me as a coldly-calculated scheme of revenge. It is a <em>temper tantrum</em>.”</p><p>Caius scowled, but didn’t argue. Instead, he pressed his other point. “And the Egyptians?”</p><p>“Amun may be incompetent, but he is too much of a coward to even <em>consider</em> defying me.”</p><p>Caius raised a snowy eyebrow, to indicate that he disagreed. But after exchanging a few pointed looks with Aro, at last he sighed in resignation. “Very well.”</p><p>At this, Caius pulled out a piece of his own parchment, equally long, and scratched those names from it. Then he handed it to Aro.</p><p>Aro’s eyes skimmed down Caius’ list. “The Denali clan is listed. Care to explain?”</p><p>“Carlisle’s so-called ‘cousins’ in Alaska?” Caius snarled. “Why, I would have thought their poor excuse for a ‘diet’ spoke for itself?”</p><p>Aro frowned. “If anything, it stands as a reason <em>not </em>to put them on here. Why would they create newborns who they know will kill and consume humans?”</p><p>Caius grumbled, and scratched them out. “Fine. But your inclusion of Demetri is just as spurious,” he muttered, not quite under his breath. Of course, even if it had been, we would have all heard it anyway.  </p><p>There was a collective gasp.</p><p>Aro vehemently shushed Caius. Obviously, we weren’t meant to hear that. After Caius rolled his eyes, Aro turned to the rows of bewildered and frightened guards in front of him, wearing a kind, sad, apologetic expression.</p><p>“Yes. Some of <em>you</em> are on our lists,” he admitted quietly. “Which is why we will <em>not be reading those names aloud</em>,” he hissed through his teeth at Caius. “Instead,” he offered, turning back to us, “I will call each one of you forward individually, and in private. If you know something, I <em>will </em>find out. And if you try to run, it will be taken as an assumption of guilt. Do you understand?”</p><p>The guard straightened up and responded in unison. “Yes, Master.”</p><p>“Of course, if you are innocent, you have nothing to fear,” Aro promised.  </p><p>Most of the guard relaxed immediately after that. Of course, Aro was right. His powers meant no one was going to be falsely accused. But, despite this assurance, the two teenage vampires to my right remained stiff with misgiving. Which I found highly suspicious.</p><p>“Master, what about her?” Jane bit out, pointing at me. “You can’t read her thoughts! How do you know she isn’t a traitor?”</p><p>Suddenly, everyone’s eyes were boring suspicious holes into me.</p><p>I suffused with panic. They really couldn’t think this was going to be <em>my</em> doing, could they? Wasn’t I supposed to be the one to <em>save</em> them all from this unknown enemy? Would they really turn on me so quickly? </p><p>Instinctively, I started to hyperventilate. And Jane, mistaking my apprehension for guilt, balled her tiny white hands into fists, and turned to face me. I wasn’t sure if she planned to use her powers, or simply punch me in the face. But either way, I wasn’t eager to find out.</p><p>Luckily, before she could do anything, Aro raised two forbidding hands. “Jane, my dear. Calm yourself,” he urged, lowering his hands slowly. “This plot was set in motion before she was born,” he reminded everyone. “She is not a suspect.”</p><p>Jane relaxed marginally. And turned away from me. But her cherubic face was still warped with malcontent. “Am <em>I</em> a suspect, Master?” she implored to know.</p><p>Aro’s face was utterly impassive. “That remains to be seen,” was all he said.</p><p>Jane stiffened again. Then hung her head in acute embarrassment.  </p><p>There was a lot of murmuring after that. If <em>Jane</em>, Aro’s most loyal servant wasn’t definitively out of the woods, then <em>anyone </em>could be suspect. A few names were thrown around. The most common suspect, to my surprise, was Vera, I guessed, due to her resentment over being experimented on. But several suspected Demetri, since his name had been brought up. And too many seemed to think Alice herself might be responsible for the odd gaps in her visions, despite the fact that her return to the Volturi would make no sense in that light.</p><p>Why warn the Volturi at all, if she planned to destroy them?</p><p>“Silence!” Caius ordered, after the cacophony amidst the guard reached a fever pitch.</p><p>At once, the guard snapped their mouths shut, and faced stoically forward. Caius scrutinized the rows of cloaks in front of him with an icy glare for a few tense moments. Then, at last, he spoke again.</p><p>“We will begin the interrogations shortly,” he informed us. “But first, we have a new member that needs <em>inducting</em>,” he said, pointing toward Jasper.</p><p>It was clear from the tone of his voice that Caius wasn’t fond of the ceremony. And Jasper, sensing the elder vampire’s unease, immediately turned bashful.</p><p>“That’s… really not necessary,” he assured all of us—though mostly Caius. “I already know everyone here.”</p><p>Caius, for the first time, looked incredibly relieved. In fact, if he wasn’t such a stick in the mud he might have felt the urge to thank Jasper for the suggestion.</p><p>Of course, either way, Aro wasn’t having any of it.</p><p>“Nonsense!” he said, waving off Jasper’s excuses. “Let’s remind him, shall we?”</p><p>…</p><p>The induction went much like before. Except now I was one of the members explaining their role to Jasper, rather than the one being inducted.</p><p>Some of the members gave their explanations in dull monotones this time, a bit exasperated that they had to do this again so soon. And in English again, since Jasper insisted he didn’t know a lick of Italian. Others, like Felix and Santiago, were just as excited to boast about their abilities. And I wasn’t particularly bored, or excited, but my explanation went smoother this time. I didn’t trip over any words, or accidentally forget to use my full name.</p><p>When, at last, we were all finished explaining, Jasper stepped forward and explained his own gift again, in a perfunctory, monotone.</p><p>“I have the power to both feel and manipulate emotions. Feeling them is not a choice—it’s a sense I cannot shut off. But manipulating them is something I have to choose, and which requires much more energy. And even then, I can only affect those emotions so long as I maintain both concentration and proximity.”</p><p>It was a good description, I thought. And everything seemed lined up to go smoothly after that. But then, when Aro asked Jasper where he thought he should stand, in a shocking display of contempt, Jasper refused to place himself in the lineup.</p><p>“You’re just going to put me where you want anyway,” he claimed, crossing his arms in contempt.</p><p>Partially as a result of that offense, I thought, Aro decided to place Jasper in the very last spot in the fourth row. He wasn’t quite banished to the very back—Afton stood as the lone member of the fifth row. But he was second to last. And that was rather shocking, given the praise Aro had heaped on Jasper earlier.</p><p>Thankfully, Aro didn’t leave us guessing his reasons.</p><p>“Young Jasper’s prior experience fighting newborns is beneficial—less training we will have to give him. His power is also quite interesting, and will prove useful in time, I think,” he allowed. “But we already have Chelsea, who is able to perform almost the same functions on a more permanent level. And the toll his power exerts on his body is severe.”</p><p>“He won’t have to drink so much next time,” Alice cut in, rising to her mate’s defense. “Today he was recovering from<em> decades</em> of insufficiently handled thirst. A blood bag or a slip-up here or there does not a healthy vampire make.”</p><p>“I know.” Aro agreed. “But still, his powers <em>do </em>exact a high price. And his… <em>disobedience</em> does not exactly inspire confidence.”</p><p>Alice frowned. But made no further comment.</p><p>There wasn’t much she could really say anyway. Aro was only acting in the best interests of the coven as a whole. Rank, as I’d learned from Aro’s etiquette classes, wasn’t just a meaningless gauge of how much you sucked up to the Masters. It determined who could boss who around. And, until Jasper displayed a little more loyalty to the Volturi leaders and to the cause, it probably wasn’t smart to give him the power to give too many people orders.</p><p>When the ceremony was finished, and Jasper was all decked out in his new cloak and pendant, the guard scattered, no longer eager to be in their master’s presence when they might be suspects. Or, in Alice’s case, too interested in wanting to give Jasper a tour of the fortress, to bother sticking around.</p><p>Soon enough, it was just me, and the Volturi family left inside the conference room.</p><p>“Isabella, if you would come with me, please?” Aro asked, rising from his throne, and flitting to my side.</p><p>I looked at him quizzically. “I thought you said I wasn’t a suspect,” I said cautiously.</p><p>“You are not,” Aro reassured me. And the certainty in his voice <em>was </em>comforting. “But there is something I would like you to see,” he said, directing me toward another room.</p><p>“Okay…” I said uncertainly.</p><p>Recalling what he’d said earlier about following instructions from my superiors unless I thought my life was in danger, I followed him without saying any more. But my mind was burgeoning with questions as we left the conference room, and went our way down a little winding cinnamon brick hallway.</p><p>
  <em>Who among the current Volturi did Aro suspect? Were there any former members on that list at all? Or had that just been a distraction, to keep all of us suspecting nothing? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And what is going to happen now that the cat is out of the bag? Is the guard going to start mistrusting each other? Is Chelsea going to be able to keep us in line, when some of us are casting such serious aspersions on each other?</em>
</p><p>It bothered me that there weren’t any satisfactory answers to these questions. That I would just have to wait and see. It made me feel helpless. And I hated feeling helpless.</p><p>Eventually, Aro and I wound up in the cramped, closet-like room he’d trained me about etiquette in, before we’d upgraded to running marching drills. And I only became more confused when I saw what was sitting on top of the splintered desk bisecting the room.</p><p>It was a little black and white chess set made out of finely crafted marble, with intricated carved little pieces, all lined up and ready to play. They looked freshly polished—not a speck of dust covering any of the pieces—so I knew they were an extremely recent addition.</p><p>I scrutinized the pieces, searching for clues for a few seconds, before giving up and looking to Aro for answers.</p><p>“What’s this all about?”</p><p>“Did Alice ever tell you about the chess game she played against Edward once?” Aro inquired.</p><p>I stiffened, startled. I hadn’t been expecting that.</p><p>“Of course,” I answered honestly. “I think, among the Cullens it’s sort of legendary.”</p><p>Aro smirked. “Indeed, but I think a similar approach may prove useful as more than mere entertainment.” </p><p>“Wait. That’s how you’re going to interrogate your suspects?” I asked. “See if they can outsmart Alice in a chess game?”</p><p>It was a good idea in theory. The Volturi were <em>very </em>competitive, and would likely use every tool in their arsenal to try and win. But that was <em>before </em>Caius had let it slip that some of the guard members might be suspects. Now, I couldn’t be sure. The Volturi might be eager to win, but they weren’t <em>stupid</em>.</p><p>“What if they decided to throw the game on purpose?” I asked.</p><p>Aro held up his hands, wiggling his fingers. “I will know.”</p><p>I nodded vigorously. <em>His powers. </em>“Right, of course.”</p><p>I looked curiously around the cramped room, then, searching for anything which might indicate the time.</p><p>“When do we start?” </p><p>…</p><p>Aro began the interrogations immediately. He started with Demetri—since Caius had made the mistake of mentioning his name out loud. But Demetri wasn’t the only one present.</p><p>Alice, of course, was needed to prove whether or not Demetri could have circumvented her visions. Aro let me stay and observe, since my innocence was a given. And he also invited Marcus and Caius—the former for his ability to see emotional ties, and the latter for the intimidation factor.</p><p>It was a tight fit—six vampires crowded into a room hardly bigger than a broom closet and already cluttered with broken furniture. But somehow, we managed. </p><p>Demetri sat across from Alice, in a rickety wooden chair, with the chessboard on the splintered desk between them. Both of them had one hand to play the game with, while the other was held, palm-up for Aro.</p><p>Aro stood to the right of the pair, holding Demetri’s offered hand in his left, and Alice’s in his right. He allowed Marcus to brush his fingers across the top of his wrist. That way he had access to all three minds at once.</p><p>While Aro conducted the interrogation, Caius and I did our best to stay out of the way.</p><p>Especially once the chess pieces started to fly.</p><p>Vampire chess was an impressive thing to behold. While I could easily keep up with their movements now, I was still astonished by how quickly Alice responded to Demetri’s moves.</p><p>Each time he reached for a white piece; Alice’s fingers were already closed around a black one. And while Demetri would occasionally pause for a moment to consider his next movement, Alice never stopped moving. Her free hand would hover near the pieces she needed to counterattack while he strategized, then seize as soon as he made his choice.</p><p>The game was <em>very</em> fast. The marble pieces went <em>clack, clack, clack </em>across the board. And had I been human, I might have mistakenly believed that the pair was moving in sync. Or even that Alice was moving <em>ahead </em>of Demetri.</p><p>But Alice never <em>technically</em> took her turn before his—since that was against the rules. Instead, her pieces hit their new spots on the board just fractions of a second after his did. Even if she raised them before Demetri executed his moves.</p><p>The game didn’t last very long. And as it neared its inevitable conclusion, the frustration on Demetri’s face grew in the extreme.</p><p>“How are you <em>doing</em> this?” he growled, after she decisively took out his queen.</p><p>Alice smiled brightly as she set his piece aside. “Easy,” she told him. “You’re predictable.”</p><p>Demetri growled again, and made his next move—an adjustment of the position of his king. But Alice, already tracing the edge of a rook, was ready to corner him as soon as his piece settled on the board.</p><p>
  <em>Clack, clack!</em>
</p><p>“Ha, ha!” Alice jubilantly exclaimed, bounding out of her seat and clapping excitedly. “Checkmate!”</p><p>Demetri slumped in his seat, looking defeated. Then, slowly, warily, he turned to face Aro, with an expression of dubious horror. Like he wasn’t sure if he was in trouble or not. But seemed to suspect that he might be.</p><p>Aro immediately rushed to reassure him. “Do not despair, Demetri. You are not under any threat.”</p><p>Demetri blinked up at his master, once, twice, obviously perplexed. “I’m not? But you said I must do everything in my power to win… and I failed you.”</p><p>Aro smiled wryly. “Proving that you do not have the means to circumvent Alice’s talent. And that there is no possible way you could be the elusive culprit we seek.”</p><p>It took a few moments for the implications of Aro’s words to sink in. Then, when they finally did, Demetri’s expression melted from one of mild alarm into one of great relief.</p><p>“You mean… I’m no longer considered a suspect?”</p><p>Caius crossed his arms petulantly and huffed. But Aro, the real authority, nodded. And at once, all the tension ebbed out of Demetri’s shoulders.</p><p>“Go now, tell the others you are absolved. Oh, and fetch Afton for me. He’s next on our list.”</p><p>Demetri grinned, delighted that the laughingstock of the Volturi was the next most likely suspect. And with a sharp nod, slipped out of the room into the winding, cinnamon brick corridor beyond.</p><p>…</p><p>The match with Afton went much like Demetri’s. He was no match for Alice’s precognition. And his thought process seemed particularly transparent to Aro, who looked almost bored as he watched the match unfold.</p><p>When Alice beat him in a solid eight seconds, he was promptly sent away, with only a brief assurance that he “was not the vampire they were looking for” and a command to fetch the next suspect.</p><p>It continued like that for the better part of the afternoon. Some games were longer than others. And a few of the guard members with supernatural talents tried to use them to their benefit. Which was fine, until Jane sent Alice howling in pain to the floor, and had to be forcibly hauled out of the room, kicking and screaming, by a wincing, but still miraculously standing Caius.</p><p>But in every game so far, no one had been able to render themselves blind to Alice. She was always able to see their decisions and who was making them. Even when Aro ordered Alice to close her eyes and hold her breath when he brought in her next contender, so she wouldn’t know their identity until they made a decision.</p><p>She was always able to see through any attempts at subterfuge. And as Aro and Caius made their way down their respective lists, they began to grow increasingly frustrated.  </p><p>At last, there came a point when Aro had interrogated every guard member except one. Before they were brought in, Caius brushed his knuckles gently along the side of Aro’s face. And Aro recoiled in horror.</p><p>“You cannot possibly think that <em>she </em>is responsible, can you?” he voiced in protest in response to something Caius had shared with his thoughts.</p><p>I wasn’t sure who <em>she </em>was. But Alice, despite their best attempts, was never in the dark.</p><p>“<em>Chelsea?</em>” she asked, even though it was evident from her expression that she didn’t need to.</p><p>Caius rolled his eyes. And Aro smiled sheepishly.</p><p>“I suppose there is little point trying to disguise it from you,” he murmured, sounding a little embarrassed. “Yes, Chelsea. I had rather hoped it would not be necessary to interrogate her after all…”</p><p>“Perhaps your method of testing is too obvious?” Caius suggested.</p><p>“Shall I try it myself?” Aro offered.</p><p>Caius scoffed. “And what exactly will that prove? That <em>you </em>are the culprit?”</p><p>Aro shook his head. “Of course not. But I <em>do</em> think I have an idea of what might be necessary to fool Alice. After all… I do know best how her power operates.”</p><p>“Besides me, of course,” Alice chipped in.</p><p>“Of course,” Aro allowed.</p><p>“Fine,” Caius huffed. “Get on with it then. I tire of this.”</p><p>Aro slipped into the dilapidated chair on the opposite side of the broken desk. Then he reached out with one hand for Alice’s, leaving the other open to play. Alice took his hand again without hesitation—she had nothing to hide. Then she quickly reset the pieces on the board, and immediately began watching Aro’s decisions; planning her first move.</p><p>For several long seconds, her eyes drifted across the polished black pieces on her side of the board, surveying the possibilities. They were glazed over slightly, they way they got when she was peering into the future. And her brow furrowed in concentration.</p><p>During that time, Aro too seemed to be concentrating. He studied the white marble pieces lined up in front of him speculatively, his crimson eyes flicking rapidly between them. But every time his gaze honed in on one ornately carved piece, the hand connected to Alice twitched ever so slightly, and what he saw in her mind made him decide against it.</p><p>He glanced at a rook, then a knight, then a bishop. But each time, I guessed Alice must have predicted it. And in her mind, he could clearly see how his moves would lead to his defeat.</p><p>They continued like this for some time—sitting stonily still, staring at their respective pieces, and making moves only inside their own heads. But they didn’t seem to be making any progress. Alice wore an expression of smug assurance—confident in her abilities to see what Aro had coming. And after nearly a minute of trying to strategize around her powers, Aro gritted his teeth and lowered his eyebrows, squinting at the board in frustration.</p><p>Looking more bored than usual, Marcus sighed. “It is pointless to try and outwit her, Aro,” he said, his fingers brushing again against Aro’s wrist.</p><p>Aro’s eyes snapped up from the board just then. And it looked like he was having a sudden epiphany.</p><p>“Why, that’s <em>genius</em>, Marcus!” Aro exclaimed, like his coven brother had just made the most insightful observation in the world.</p><p>Caius and I both narrowed our eyes. It didn’t take a <em>genius</em> to know <em>that. </em></p><p>But suddenly Alice’s smug smile evaporated. Her eyes blew wide with panic, like she was suddenly blind. And her mouth opened to form the word, “<em>How</em>—?”</p><p>But before the syllable could even fully leave her lips, Aro was moving. He seized a piece on the board, seemingly at random, and moved it haphazardly forward. Alice blinked in shock after it <em>clacked</em> into place on the marble. Then, slowly, with her perfect pout bent into a worried line, and her normally smooth forehead crumpled, she made her move.</p><p>As soon as Alice’s pawn touched down, Aro was moving again. His hand skittered quickly back and forth over the top of his rows of pieces, like he was trying to simulate the scrolling of a slot machine. While his fingers twitched, Alice stared at them with the intensity of a hawk, grimacing in concentration. But it didn’t look like she was able to predict which one he would choose. She remained on the edge of her seat, her face wan with worry, until Aro’s hand suddenly curled around a piece. And even then, her confidence didn’t return.</p><p>As Aro finished his second, random move—a sudden leap with his knight over the ivory line of pawns—Alice decided to comment, before she touched her pieces.</p><p>“<em>How </em>are you doing that?” she snapped. “I can see your moves, but I can’t <em>see</em> them!”</p><p>The corner of Aro’s lips curled upwards. “Oh?” he said, feigning surprise. “So, you are just as blind as the rest of us, now? Only able to observe what is happening in the present, and not the future?”</p><p>For our benefit, Alice glumly nodded. And I gasped. <em>Had Aro really managed that?</em></p><p>From the look of absolute horror dawning across Alice’s face, it looked like he <em>had. </em>But now my mind was burning with the same question as hers. <em>How <strong>was</strong></em> <em>he doing that?</em></p><p>Aro leaned back in his chair, his smirk growing into a full-blown grin. His blindingly white teeth glinted in the flickering orange light of a nearby candle. Meanwhile, Alice looked like she was having the crisis of a century.</p><p>Aro waved an impatient hand towards the board. “Go on now,” he urged. “I do not have all day.”</p><p>Alice’s expression turned frantic. “But—!”</p><p>Aro held up his free hand to silence her. “Shh, shh, shh!” he chided. “None of that.”</p><p>Obediently, Alice snapped her lips shut. But she didn’t say anything. And she didn’t move.</p><p>While Alice silently fretted, Aro gestured to the board again. While he pointed, he turned his head to give Alice an expectant, sidelong glance. “Now, if you would please…”</p><p>Alice gave him a shaky, clipped nod. Then, with quivering white fingers, reached out for one of her black pieces. She deliberated for a moment, suddenly not sure what move to make next, before settling on another pawn, still in its original position.</p><p>At an almost human pace, she slid it two spaces forward. It scraped loudly in my inhuman ears. And the sound—like nails on a chalkboard—made my flesh want to crawl.</p><p>When Alice’s piece lurched to a stop, Aro’s eyes sparked with glee. Then, in a flash, he grabbed another piece, seemingly at random, and almost flung it across the board. It hit the surface with a loud <em>clack </em>that made Alice and I both jump. Then it was Alice’s turn again.</p><p>With a brow furrowed so deep I thought it might cut off circulation to her nose, Alice gradually reached for her bishop. And after her turn, the match continued like that for several minutes, with Alice making slow, deliberate, strategic moves, and Aro acting out spontaneously. The longer it went on, the wider Aro’s smile got, while at the same time, Alice seemed to be progressively drowning in anxiety.</p><p>I wasn’t sure exactly what was going on—I couldn’t read their minds or predict the future. But it looked like Aro was making his decisions so last-second that even Alice couldn’t predict them until they were already made. And she was left to try and figure out his strategy as it went—a novel and abjectly terrifying experience for her.   </p><p>Aro’s hand zipped across the board—a blip—one final time. Then he leaned back in his chair and leveled Alice with a pointed look.</p><p>“Checkmate.”</p><p>Alice’s eyes darted down to look at the arrangement of pieces next to her king. A sixteenth of a second later, when they snapped back up, her mouth was wide open in shock. And her eyes looked ready to pop out of her pretty little head.</p><p>“<em>How</em>?” she demanded again.</p><p>Aro unexpectedly retracted his hand from Alice’s, making her flinch at the sudden lack of contact. Then he propped up both elbows on the broken desk and steepled both hands under his chin.</p><p>“It’s quite simple, actually,” he began, his whole face alight with maniacal glee. “You can only predict what has been <em>decided</em>. So, naturally, I decided to <em>win</em>—which you saw. But I did not make any more detailed plans in advance.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh. He could do that?</em>
</p><p>While my head reeled, still taking it all in. Caius snorted at my side. “While this has been <em>fascinating</em>,” the word dripped with sarcasm, “What exactly did your little game <em>prove</em>, brother?”</p><p>Aro looked toward Caius like he was being especially obtuse. “Why I thought that would be obvious,” he remarked, sounding disappointed with Caius’ lack of understanding. “Now I have an inkling as to how our enemy is evading dear Alice’s foresight.”</p><p>Caius raised a snowy eyebrow. “Which means?”</p><p>Aro heaved a sigh, exasperated that he had to spell it out. “Which means we can narrow our suspect pool even further. And… more importantly, I believe… begin to strategize how we will fight back.”</p><p>Caius’ pallid face crumpled with anger and confusion. “And how exactly do you propose we fight back, when we cannot see our enemy’s next moves coming?”</p><p>“Well,” Aro explained patiently, rising from his seat, and slowly making his way across the cramped room. “It is rather simple, actually,” he assured us both as he wandered closer. “We just need to take the appropriate steps to stop this battle from getting out of hand.”</p><p>Caius’ face warped further. “I still do not see how—”</p><p>Aro stopped drifting over the dusty stone floor, just inches away from his coven brother’s face. Then, without warning, he pressed a finger against his brother’s lips to shut him up.</p><p>Caius recoiled, looking startled and disgusted. But didn’t say anything after that. Instead he glared at Aro expectantly, waiting for him to finish explaining.</p><p>When Aro seemed confident that Caius would no longer interrupt, he pulled his hand away from Caius’ lips and snapped his fingers, and Alice flitted out of her chair to his side. Without exchanging any words, she seemed to know immediately what he wanted. And, as usual, she was perfectly prepared.</p><p>She reached into one of the deep pockets of her clothes underneath her inky black cloak, and pulled out a slip of paper and a bright red Sharpie. Aro swiped both form her tiny hands in a single movement. Then he began hastily drawing a series of thick, overlapping, straight lines.</p><p>It took me about a sixteenth of a second to realize what he had drawn. It was a tic-tac-toe board.</p><p>Caius seemed to reach the realization a twenty-eighth of a second sooner. He was already groaning by the time I’d figured it out. “More games, Aro?”</p><p>Aro frowned. “I am trying to prove a point, brother,” he explained. Then he handed the paper and the Sharpie back to Alice. “Now, if you would not mind making the first move?”</p><p>“X or O?” Alice asked, tapping the capped back of the pen against her cheek.</p><p>Aro made a dismissive motion. “Either. It does not matter.”</p><p>Alice drew a bright red X in the center square. Then, without him ever asking for it back, she handed the paper and pen over to Aro.</p><p>Like with the chess game before, he made his move completely at random, scribbling an O in the first empty box his eyes fell upon. Then he handed it back to Alice.</p><p>Alice studied the position of Aro’s O relative to her X. Then made a judicious decision.</p><p>They handed the paper back and forth a few times. Each time the paper changed hands, Caius grew more and more impatient. His shoes tapped the stone floor rapidly with mounting irritation. His arms were staunchly crossed. And his eyebrows formed a snowy “v” over the bridge of his nose.</p><p>Three seconds later, the match was over. Alice drew a long line across three Xs in a row, then pumped a fist in the air and gave a jubilant cry of victory.  </p><p>“I did it!” she exclaimed, so thrilled she was hopping up and down. “I’ve <em>never </em>played that game blind before, and I <em>won</em>!”</p><p>Aro glanced at Caius and gestured to Alice. “See?” he prompted. “There are only a limited amount of moves one can make in that game to attain victory. So even without her foresight, Alice could still predict and thwart my moves. Especially given that my strategy was limited by how quickly I had to execute my decisions.”</p><p>Caius opened his mouth to say something. But Aro held up a hand to indicate he wasn’t finished before the words could be bit out.</p><p>“This <em>means</em>…” Aro stressed. “…we can win. Just as all Alice had to do in order to succeed was prevent my Os from landing, three in a row, all we have to do is set up the appropriate roadblocks to our enemy’s goals. And of course, to preventing our unwitting extinction, as well.”</p><p> “And what <em>roadblocks</em> do you propose we set up?” Caius snapped. “Would it not be simpler to merely find the culprit and kill them before they kill us?”</p><p>Before Aro could answer, Alice sighed, and added her own insight. “Finding the culprit is still our top priority. But even if we do kill them, that’s no guarantee that their plot won’t go forward. I realized, while I was playing our second game that maybe this isn’t chess or tic-tac-toe at all. Maybe we’re playing dominos, and the pieces are already set to fall,” she explained.</p><p>Caius frowned. But the anger in his expression, for once, actually abated. “And why do you think that?” he pressed, genuinely curious.</p><p>“Well,” Alice began. “I saw the first vision of this upcoming calamity in <em>1948, </em>so our enemy has had more than enough time—even working within the constraints of my powers—to set something like that up. That would also explain why, over the years, I kept getting more visions—random and disjointed as they were. I’m guessing our culprit—whoever they are—would only plot one piece at a time, never the whole strategy, aside from the over-arching vision of our destruction. And that’s why I’ve seen what I’ve seen.”</p><p>“And—?” Caius prompted, sensing there was more.</p><p>Alice sighed before she went on. “I didn’t want to say this before in front of everyone,” she began, her voice dropping almost to a whisper, as if she was worried they guard might overhear through the thick stone walls, “I didn’t want to cause a panic. But the newborn army we’re destined to face off is already being created. I saw the first person bitten last week—not a trace of who did it. And five more have already joined him.”</p><p>I sucked in a deep breath. And Caius stiffened at my side. This was bad news.  </p><p>“They’re biting each other, now,” Alice elucidated further, her voice still hushed. “So, you see, even if we <em>do </em>catch the culprit, it may be too late to stop the army from growing and trying to fulfill their purpose.”</p><p>When Alice was finished, Caius nodded, accepting. Then turned to Aro, the earlier ire in his expression returning.</p><p>“So, all of our interrogations have been a waste?” he demanded acridly.</p><p>Aro shook his head, his long ebony locks swaying with the movement. “No, quite the opposite. Even if killing the culprit will not stop the army, it needs to be done. And I believe the games we played today have proved quite insightful. Despite working intimately with Alice over the years, no one here understands the limits of Alice’s powers as well as I do. Which means our culprit <em>must </em>have some sort of power that gives them insight into the inner workings of the mind. Perhaps another telepath.”</p><p>Caius’ eyes grew to the size of saucers. Then his entire body rippled with fury. “And you are only mentioning this <em>now</em>?”</p><p>“Now, now, brother,” Aro said in a placating tone. “I do not need to touch you right now to know what you are thinking. But think of the timing,” he urged. “How on earth would young Edward be able to orchestrate this <em>before </em>he met Alice?”</p><p><em>Edward. Of course, Caius would immediately think of Edward, </em>I thought. After all, he and Aro were the only two telepaths I knew.</p><p>Caius was hunkering down into a predatory crouch. His muscles were contracting with rage. And his breathing had turned ragged; ferocious.</p><p>I inched away from him, terrified. But Aro seemed utterly nonplussed. He patted his brother’s seething shoulders gently for a few seconds. Then, finally, after taking a few deep breaths, Caius managed to calm himself down.</p><p>“Fine,” Caius snapped, straightening out. “Let us bring in Chelsea and finish our interrogations. Once she is cleared, send Demetri to find my son. Then, tell Heidi to warm up the jet. I want to take off as soon as possible.”</p><p>I froze where I stood. The <em>jet</em>? <em>Takeoff? </em></p><p>“Where are we going?” I asked, surprised by this sudden turn of events.</p><p>Caius’ voice was flat, icy. “<em>Seattle.</em>”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>CHAPTER NINE: RELATIONSHIPS</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>I did suspect that Chelsea kept our own band more tightly knit,</em>
</p><p>
  <em> but that, too, was a good thing. It made us more effective. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It helped us coexist more easily.”</em>
</p><p>- Eleazar, Breaking Dawn Chapter 31</p><p>…</p><p>Aro held up two forbidding hands. “Now, now Caius, let’s not be so hasty,” he encouraged. “There are still preparations that must be made before we leave. Preparations that will take a few days, at minimum.”</p><p>Caius’ paper-white lips twisted into a deep, scowling frown. But he didn’t offer any rebuttals.</p><p>“Fine,” he conceded curtly. “Make your preparations, brother. But do not delay,” he commanded. “I grow impatient waiting within these walls when we know the location of our enemy.”</p><p>Alice shook her head. “We don’t, though,” she countered, gracefully stepping over a dusty, moth-eaten ottoman to stand closer to Caius. “Whoever started this might not be in Seattle right now at all,” she explained. “They wouldn’t have to be.”</p><p>Caius groaned in frustration. Then, with gritted teeth, he pressed, “But they <em>will </em>be there soon, will they not?”</p><p>Alice paused, holding up a finger, asking Caius to wait for a moment. Then she let her eyes glaze over, peering into the future. She gazed off into space for a second. Then blinked and came back to the present.</p><p>“Yes,” she told Caius. “I believe they will.”</p><p>“You <em>believe</em>?” Caius stressed the word, clearly displeased with the uncertainty of it.</p><p>Alice shrugged. “Sorry, that’s the best I can do,” she apologized. “I still can’t get a proper lock on them. But <em>someone</em>—fuzzy and indistinct as they are—will be there, waiting, watching, when the fight is supposed to break out.”</p><p>“Do you believe we should make our preparations soon, then?” Aro asked, gazing at her with rapt interest—something Caius noted with a scoff. I guessed he wasn’t used to having his opinion be of a lesser importance than someone else’s.</p><p>But he calmed down a little when he saw Alice nodding quickly. “I think that would be best.”  </p><p>There was a beat of silence during which no one spoke. The stale air between us swirled with thousands of tiny dust motes, which glowed orange in the flickering candlelight. I watched them dance lazily across my vision, distracted by how <em>sharp</em> they looked. The sides the light touched and the sides in shadow were divided, as if by a razor’s edge.</p><p>While I was distracted by the dancing dust, Marcus roughly cleared his throat. The sound was shockingly loud. And all eyes flicked to him instantly.</p><p>“Are we quite finished?” Marcus piped in from his corner of the room. He looked rather uncomfortable, squished between two battered bookcases. And it wasn’t hard to see that he was eager to leave the cramped confines of this tiny, crowded room.</p><p>Aro appeared to mull it over for a second, before, gradually he nodded. “Yes, I believe we are. Let us begin making our preparations.”</p><p>Aro moved for the door then. But just as his fingers coiled around the knob and pulled it open, I opened my mouth.</p><p>“What about Chelsea?”</p><p>Aro paused, hovering in the doorway. “On second thought, I do not believe interrogating her is necessary.”</p><p>My eyebrows lifted in shock. “Really? But what if—?”</p><p>Caius interrupted me. “Do <em>you</em> have any reason to suspect her?”</p><p>My strangely sibilant voice faltered and died. <em>Well, no. Not <strong>specifically</strong>. But—</em></p><p>“Wouldn’t it be better to test her anyway?” I reasoned. “You know, just to double check?”</p><p>I thought that was the sensible thing to do. But apparently, Aro, disagreed.</p><p>He gently shook his head. “The others, I believe in time, will come to understand that their interrogations were nothing personal. That I was simply ruling out every possibility,” he informed me in a calm, feathery voice. “Even Jane, Alice has assured me, will not perceive this as an affront to her loyalty.”</p><p>There was a brief pause before Aro continued in a much darker voice, “However, Chelsea…”</p><p>He trailed off. His brow furrowed and his lips pursed, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to finish that sentence.</p><p>After two seconds of silence—two seconds that felt like an eternity—I decided to give it a shot. “She won’t take it well, I’m guessing?”</p><p>Alice surprised me by being the one to respond. “No. She won’t take it well at <em>all</em>.”</p><p>My eyelids fluttered rapidly in astonishment. “<em>Why</em>?”</p><p>I had a hard time understanding why the light-brown-haired vampire might react that way. Although my innocence was a given, and Aro could not read my thoughts regardless, if I’d been in her shoes, I couldn’t imagine fearing an interrogation. She was his most veteran member of the guard. After three thousand years of loyalty to Aro, what could she possibly have to worry about?</p><p>An expression of grave seriousness washed over Alice’s elfin features, before she explained. “You see, Bella, Chelsea is rather… <em>sensitive </em>about her loyalties being questioned. And we cannot really afford to antagonize her further right now. Aro has already upset her a great deal by placing <em>you</em> higher than her in the hierarchy. And inducting Jasper into the coven. Not to mention his ongoing harassment of her mate.”</p><p>Alice gave Aro a pointed glare. It was obviously meant to be a form of nonverbal chastisement. But Aro merely shrugged, like he really didn’t see any other option. And Caius, to my surprise, came to his coven brother’s defense.</p><p>“In all fairness, Afton is <em>irritating</em>,” Caius snarled in disgust. “Chelsea ought to be<em> grateful</em> we tolerate his presence at all,” he mumbled, crossing his arms grumpily over his chest. “If it were up to <em>me</em>, he would be <em>long</em> gone.”</p><p>I didn’t miss the threatening edge to his voice in those last words. And it made me suspect Caius wasn’t imagining politely asking the Scandinavian vampire to leave. But rather, tearing the poor boy’s head from his shoulders, and throwing it into the nearest fireplace.</p><p>I shuddered at the thought. But at the same time, my curiosity was piqued.</p><p>My mind spun back, recalling in perfect detail every time I’d heard Afton speak to Caius. Every minute change in his facial expressions. Every gesture. Every movement. I reviewed them all in my head, searching for any egregious offense. But I couldn’t find anything that stood out.</p><p>Granted he wasn’t particularly <em>nice</em> or <em>interesting</em>. And his combat skills were rather… uh… lackluster. But <em>mediocre </em>wasn’t an excuse to be rude to him all the time, was it?</p><p>“Forgive me if this is out of place,” I prefaced, remembering my manners. “But what’s the matter with Afton? Sure, I understand his power, um…” I tried to think of the politest way to put this, “…leaves a lot to be desired,” I decided on. “But, personality-wise, I don’t think he’s all <em>that</em> bad…”</p><p>Caius barked out a sound somewhere halfway between a scoff and a <em>laugh</em>. “You have barely met him,” he reminded me. “I am sure, after a hundred years, you will begin to think differently.”</p><p>I nodded, conceding his point. Perhaps I would. Nearly everyone else in the Volturi seemed to treat Afton with the same forced tolerance I’d had towards eating spinach as a human. And I couldn’t imagine <em>all </em>of that was simply out of a desire to appear in line with Aro.</p><p>But Alice still hadn’t really answered my earlier question. “So, if we interrogate Chelsea, what could happen?”</p><p>Alice tapped her chin. “Best case scenario, she’d just be more angry than usual with Aro for a few weeks.”</p><p>
  <em>That doesn’t sound too bad.</em>
</p><p>“And worst-case scenario?” I prompted.</p><p>“Worst-case scenario, she could <em>leave</em> us. And we <em>really</em> cannot risk that happening,” Alice stressed. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she’s sort of the glue that holds everything together. Her powers help keep us focused. Help ease tensions if necessary. And she’s been doing that since the very beginning. If she leaves….” Alice made a dispersing motion with her hands, “…the whole Volturi could fall apart, breaking into factions squabbling for power, almost overnight.”</p><p>I gasped. <em>Such a dire consequence!</em></p><p>No wonder Aro was reluctant to interrogate her.    </p><p>“Alice is correct,” Caius chipped in, while I was still taking it in. “We all want to be here, and to help further the Volturi’s collective goals. But occasionally, even <em>we </em>can forget our higher ambitions. And without Chelsea’s regular intervention, our individual interests could severely undermine the effectiveness of the whole.”</p><p>I stood, stunned for a second by Caius’ sudden eloquence. And even moreso by how <em>passionate </em>and <em>convicted </em>and <em>humble </em>he sounded. I had <em>never</em> heard him talk like that before. And now I suddenly wondered if he was actually <em>grateful</em> to Chelsea for keeping his volatile moods in check, rather than resentful, as I’d first assumed.</p><p>It suddenly did not appear to be beyond the realm of possibility.  </p><p>While I stood, stonily still, taking that in, my eyes flicked around the room. And for once, all three brothers seemed to be in agreement. Marcus had already brushed past Aro, and was floating out the door. Caius was wearing an oddly somber expression—like he understood just how high the stakes were, and was unwilling to risk offending Chelsea. And Aro’s crimson eyes on me had turned pleading, like he was begging me to see reason.</p><p>Marcus slipped out of sight. Then I nodded.</p><p>The motion was stilted, and jerky, but everyone seemed to understand it just the same. Aro and Caius took it as their cue to leave. While they floated out, Alice packed up the marble chess set, placing the expensive pieces carefully back inside their velvet-lined box. And when she was finished, I followed her out the door.</p><p>…</p><p>As soon as we were out of the cramped room full of broken furniture, Aro began ordering people around, just as Caius had instructed. He found Heidi first, and told her to make sure the jet was ready to take off in the next few days. Then, while she sped off toward a secret hangar out in the country, he took us all on a quest to track down Demetri.</p><p>It didn’t take us very long. Aro knew Demetri perfectly well, so we found him in the first place we checked—in the sparring room. Though, when Caius threw open the huge double doors leading in, we discovered he wasn’t alone. Santiago and Afton were practicing with him.</p><p>Well, <em>Santiago</em> was practicing with him. Afton, on the other hand, was trying his best to stay out of the way.</p><p>I thought that was a little odd at first. <em>Why come to the sparring room at all, if not to practice combat skills? </em>But then I remembered that, as the lowest ranking member of the guard, it was entirely possible that Afton had been <em>ordered</em> to be here. That he was only present because Demetri and Santiago wanted another opponent to practice their skills against.</p><p>That much, at least, seemed consistent with Afton’s expression. Rather than wearing a look of concentration or frustration as he dodged and fled, he was openly <em>pouting,</em> like a child who would rather be at the zoo. </p><p>I thought that was rather brazen of him to show such obvious reluctance to follow orders. Especially when Caius had insinuated he was already on shaky ground with most of the guard as it was.</p><p>But when I glanced over to my right, it didn’t look like the three Volturi leaders noticed. After Caius had opened the door, they, Alice and I had all paused, just inside the enormous room, to watch the trio of grayish-cloaked guards fight. But, as fists flew, none of them seemed to even be looking in Afton’s direction. Even as the blatantly disrespectful look of disdain on his face intensified.</p><p>I marveled at their ignorance for a moment before I remembered something. Since my mental shield allowed me to see Afton perfectly clearly it was easy to forget that everyone else might not be able to do the same. But I realized, suddenly, that Afton was probably using his power of illusory invisibility right now. And thus, his facial expression was unreadable to everyone except me.</p><p>They could still see the faintly shimmering outline of his figure—I caught Caius tracking it a sixteenth of a second later, with a look of severe disgust. But Afton’s resentful expression—the face that told me this extracurricular combat training hadn’t been his idea—was hidden from their view.</p><p>I couldn’t help but feel like that was intentional. That he was hiding his true feelings from his superiors. Though, of course, only Aro would be able to know for sure, later, when he checked the skinny, Swedish vampire’s thoughts.  </p><p>At the same time, however, I couldn’t bring myself to blame him for how he felt. After all, it was clear, just from how he ducked and scurried away from every fist launched even vaguely in his direction that Afton wasn’t a very powerful fighter. And he didn’t have many friends among the Volturi guard. So, it made sense that he was enduring this exercise with such little enthusiasm.</p><p>And it made even more sense when, a quarter of a second later, Afton was eliminated from the round.</p><p>Still using his powers, he tried to sneak around the pair of other fighters. It looked silly to me, since I could see him, clear as day. But, even though his invisibility illusion worked just fine on Demetri and Santiago, it wasn’t much help in combat. When his vague silhouette shimmered past his opponent’s eyes, Santiago reached out and grabbed him, yanking him off the mats.  </p><p>I was surprised by the accuracy of Santiago’s aim. Even without my ability to see through Afton’s illusion, he seized Afton by the throat on the first try. Then he hoisted him off his feet with one hand, as easily as one might uproot a carrot.</p><p>I remembered, suddenly, getting a similar grip on Afton once during our training. And just like before, the blonde didn’t make any effort whatsoever to fight back once his opponent had him in their grasp. Instead, looking absolutely petrified, he screamed “<em>Pieta!</em>” before Santiago could even think about angling his teeth towards him.</p><p>Obediently, Santiago froze, before gently lowering the scrawny Swedish vampire to the floor. Though he frowned, like he was disappointed in how quickly Afton had surrendered. And I frowned too.</p><p>In every match I’d watched him fight, this one included, he’d always thrown in the towel at the first opportunity. And that wasn’t a good thing. It wasn’t exactly the best simulation of combat, to forfeit so early. After all, our real enemies would not be deterred from enacting lethal violence by a mere word.  </p><p>But Afton, for his part, didn’t look the least bit remorseful. It was hard to read exactly <em>what </em>emotion was on his face. But if I had to make a guess, I’d say it was a combination of apathy and relief.  </p><p>I studied him for a moment, trying to figure it out. Trying to figure out why he didn’t care that he was disappointing everyone. Especially the three leaders, who were all glowering at him now.</p><p>Though it was impossible for me to tell, he could easily still be invisible, which would explain why he didn’t school his expression. But his <em>actions </em>spoke to Aro, Marcus and Caius, much louder than his face.</p><p>
  <em>Maybe he figured he was going to disappoint them no matter what, so why try?</em>
</p><p>It was an interesting avenue to consider.</p><p>But as Afton slunk away from us, toward the designated loser’s wall, Demetri and Santiago resumed their fight. Which interrupted my train of thought. And then, distracting me even further, Aro cleared his throat and gave Demetri the order to locate and bring back Caius’ son.</p><p>Demetri, mid-lunge for Santiago’s throat, dropped what he was doing immediately. And if he questioned the wisdom of such a decision, he kept his dissenting thoughts to himself. I watched, impressed, as he abandoned the fight without any consideration for his companions. Then, while Santiago stared after him with a look of confusion, and a little betrayal for being left alone with Afton, he flitted out of the red-plastic-coated room to get changed out of his battle uniform.</p><p>He reappeared a second later. </p><p>“Is this appropriate, Master?” Demetri asked, gesturing toward his new outfit.</p><p>Aro and I both poured over it at the same time. Demetri was wearing his usual—a sleek black suit, a dark red button-down shirt, and polished Italian leather shoes. And I thought he looked rather sharp. But Aro, to my surprise, slowly shook his head.</p><p>“That is much too formal,” Aro informed him. “We do not wish for Theodore to feel threatened.”</p><p>Without a word, Demetri dashed off again. And this time, when he got back, he was dressed in dark jeans, leather boots and a form-fitting turtleneck.</p><p>I hardly thought it made that much of a difference. With the silvery Volturi insignia still hanging around his neck, and a heavy, charcoal black cloak over everything, Demetri still cut a menacing figure. But Aro, once again, seemed to disagree.</p><p>He smiled and nodded quickly. “That will do.”</p><p>Demetri gave what appeared to be a tiny bow. Then he absconded with nothing but the Aro-approved clothes on his back. I guessed he planned to run or swim wherever he needed to go, rather than utilize airborne transportation.</p><p>While we awaited his return, Aro sent Santiago around the fortress to spread the news that we were leaving in a few days. In addition to urging us to tie up any lose ends, he instructed everyone to pack for two months. Today was April nineteenth. The confrontation was predicted to occur on June fifteenth. And there was no telling whether or not we’d have the chance to return to Volterra between those dates.</p><p>After Santiago ran off, Afton zipped away, a little too eager to put the sparring room behind him. Then Alice and I split off from our three leaders.</p><p>Aro and Caius both appeared to be eager to inform their families themselves, as well as spend some final, quality time with them, before they had to leave. And Marcus, I imagined, was slinking off to some dark corner to sulk. Meanwhile, Alice and I needed to go back to our rooms.</p><p>We went to Alice’s first. Her room was painted and modernized with electricity and carpeted floors, much like mine. Although she’d chosen a much more dramatic color scheme. Instead of soft, muted creams and plums, her room was a vivid, and yet somehow still tasteful, assortment of yellows, golds and pinks.</p><p>I stared at the bright, breezy, floral patterns on the wall while Alice made a beeline for her enormous walk-in-closet. And as she disappeared inside, I started to think that perhaps the Alice I had gotten to know in Forks wasn’t <em>all </em>a lie. Even if the Volturi had an austere dress code, she was still a sunny person at heart. A person who liked canary yellow Porsches and filmy rose-colored dresses.</p><p>I was broken out of my reverie when Alice came back a few seconds later. She was lugging a huge mustard suitcase nearly as tall as her out of her closet, and already filled to near-bursting. I eyed the object speculatively as she wheeled it past me. And let my confusion show on my face.</p><p>“I’m <em>not </em>using a black suitcase,” Alice said, in response to the question I hadn’t yet asked. “You try finding a black suitcase among thirty others!”</p><p>“Oh.” I hadn’t even thought of that. But, of course, Alice would be thinking ahead.</p><p>“What color is my suitcase?” I asked, trailing out of Alice’s room behind her.</p><p>It was only a short walk between her room and mine. When we arrived, rather than answering, she ducked into the back of my closet and came back out with a suitcase almost as large as hers. The fabric was the same color as my duvet—a deep, rich purple.</p><p>Automatically, I sighed in relief. Purple would be easy to find amid the sea of black Alice predicted. But it wouldn’t stand out embarrassingly either. </p><p>Alice set my suitcase down on the bed, then. I sat next to it, and let Alice pack it, figuring she knew best. Her foresight let her move quickly, so it wasn’t really an extra burden on her. While I would have deliberated for hours, unsure of what kind of weather conditions, or fighting conditions we might be in, Alice packed everything I would need in a matter of minutes.</p><p>I watched her throw in a big fluffy white towel, a bar of diamond-laced soap, my special steel-bristled toothbrush, some metal floss and an ordinary hairbrush. Then she packed my battle uniform and a few, sensible outfits. She left my cloak and my Volturi pendant out—I would be wearing those on the plane. But while she was packing my underwear, I noticed some of the pairs she picked were rather scant and bordered with lots of expensive lace.</p><p>I raised an eyebrow as she tossed them in, but didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to know what I would be using <em>those </em>for. </p><p>There was a loud <em>ziiiiip </em>then as Alice closed up the last pocket of my suitcase. Then she wheeled it over to me. I took it from her carefully, wrapping my fingers around the handle gently, like I was handling tissue paper. And for once, I managed not to instantly crumple something underneath my hands.</p><p>While I marveled at that fact, Alice scrambled to pack Jasper’s bag, too. She wheeled it into my room from some unknown part of the fortress. And as it passed over the threshold, I noted that it was navy-blue, just as large as our suitcases, and travel-scuffed from his recent trip.</p><p>When Alice threw it onto my bed and opened it, I was surprised to find it was mostly empty. Only two changes of clothes rested at the very bottom. And there were no toiletries of any kind to be found.</p><p>I guessed the rest of the space must have been used to house the enormous metal chain Jasper had found in Seattle. But now that the chain was gone—probably still resting on the cracked floor in the turret room—that space was available for Alice to fill.</p><p>I wasn’t sure what she was going to fill it with. Alice was <em>tiny </em>compared to her mate, so none of her clothes would fit him. Not to mention they were hardly his style.</p><p>But Alice, as always, was prepared. While I stood next to the foot of my bed, gingerly holding the handle of my full and zippered suitcase, she flitted out of the room, and came back in with a rolling rack <em>filled</em> with clothes suited to Jasper’s tastes and size.</p><p>“When did you get <em>that</em>?” I asked, eying the long row of hanging clothes curiously.</p><p>They looked too modern to have simply been sitting around or donated by other members of the Volturi. So clearly Alice had to have gone shopping. But <em>when</em>? Sure, I hadn’t been watching her every second. But I knew she’d been too busy over the past month to sneak off to Calvin Klein. </p><p>Alice shrugged, like it was no big deal. “I hit up some shops while you were transforming into one of us,” she informed me. “There wasn’t really anything else that needed to be done at the time. And, of course, when you were finished changing, I wanted you to look your best.”</p><p>I swallowed, remembering how <em>that </em>had turned out. Then I shook myself violently to get rid of the ghastly memory.</p><p>Alice kept going, oblivious to my horror. “As soon as I left for Volterra it became a possibility that Jasper might join us. I wanted to be prepared in case it panned out.”</p><p>That brought me up short. Suddenly, I wondered how many possibilities Alice prepared for that <em>didn’t </em>pan out. Would she have purchased Edward clothing too, if he’d decided to stay? Was there already an extra suitcase tucked away somewhere, in case he suddenly changed his mind?</p><p>I couldn’t be sure. But I wouldn’t put it past Alice.</p><p>While Alice rifled through her options on the rolling rack, Jasper knocked on the door. I let him in, since Alice seemed to be distracted, checking washing labels and peering into the future. But as soon as he noticed what we were doing, he snatched his suitcase off the bed with one hand, and yanked the rolling rack out of Alice’s hands with the other.</p><p>“I can pack my own things, thank you very much,” he snapped.</p><p>Alice, looking like Jasper had just scalded her with hot water, backed away instantly. “I’m just trying to help…” she said in a small voice.</p><p>“Well, go be helpful somewhere else,” he bit out, rolling his suitcase and the rack of designer clothes in his size away from her, and out the door with him.</p><p>We both watched him leave in stunned silence. He slammed the door on his way out—not hard enough to break the hinges, but hard enough to give me a good scare. And hard enough to make Alice burst into loud, tearless sobs.</p><p>I rushed to her side immediately, and wrapped my arms around her. She collapsed into my shoulder, barely supporting herself on her own two feet. And wept dryly into my arm.</p><p>“What’s <em>wrong </em>with him?” I demanded, suddenly furious. “Why is he acting like this?”</p><p>“He’s upset that I’ve dragged him into this,” Alice blubbered. “He wishes he could just stay with Carlisle.”</p><p>My mouth fell open in shock. “Despite the risk?”</p><p>Alice nodded against my sleeve.</p><p>My eyes narrowed in bewilderment. Not only did that not make a lick of sense from my perspective—why be upset with someone who was literally just trying to make sure you stayed alive? But the accusation that Jasper had been <em>forced</em> struck me as wildly inaccurate.</p><p>“But you didn’t <em>drag</em> him into this,” I stressed. “He came here of his own free will, right?”</p><p>At least, that was how I remembered it.</p><p>But, to my surprise and dismay, Alice shook her little head. “Not exactly.”</p><p>I stiffened. “I don’t understand.”</p><p>Alice sighed, and leaned back so she could look me in the eyes. Vampires didn’t get all puffy and red like humans did when they cried. But there were other signs that she’d been crying. Or, at least, trying to. Her crimson irises looked pink under the thick film of venom trapped inside them.</p><p>I swallowed. And looked away.</p><p>“Jasper and I are <em>mates</em>,” she stressed, using that word again. “I’m not sure you fully understand what that means. Like I said before, it isn’t just a marriage for vampires. It’s <em>forever</em>. And once you enter into it, there’s no backing out.”</p><p>I squinted as she spoke, trying to remember when she had told me this. It must have been before I was transformed. The relevant memories my mind tried to dredge up were murky, and indistinct, like watching an old film reel. And they weren’t very helpful. I <em>vaguely </em>recalled her mentioning something about this. But her actual words were a muffled blur.</p><p>Alice, noticing my look of pained concentration, put her little hands on her hips. “You weren’t listening, were you?” she said with a slight edge of accusation in her tone.</p><p>I held up a hand in my defense. “I’m sure you told me something about this when I was still human. And I’m sure I listened. But I don’t remember the details. My human memory <em>sucks</em>.”</p><p>The ire from Alice’s facial expression suddenly evaporated. “Oh. Right. I’m sorry, I don’t have any idea what that’s like.” She turned her toes inward, abashed. Then took a deep breath to compose herself and began to explain. “That’s all I said last time. But there’s more I didn’t mention before. I didn’t want to say anything in front of the entire guard but…”</p><p>Alice trailed off, looking even more embarrassed than before. I felt my eyebrows inching toward my forehead. <em>What had Alice done that she was so ashamed of? </em></p><p>When she started speaking again, her voice was lowered to a whisper. “Mates have a hard time being apart for very long. Once the bond is forged, it can become… physically painful to be away from each other for more than a few days. Especially for newlyweds like us.”</p><p>I blinked. “<em>Newlyweds</em>?” I repeated, having a hard time believing it. “But you’ve been together over <em>fifty years</em>!”</p><p>“Which is <em>nothing</em> to a vampire!” Alice reminded me, raising her voice again. “Titania and Lucretia were only born eight years after I left. And you’ve seen how tiny they still are!”</p><p>I got quiet then. Alice had a point.</p><p>But now I was curious. “How long does it take until you’re no longer considered newlyweds?”</p><p>“A century at least,” Alice revealed. “Carlisle and Esme are nearly there. A measly two decades away. And already they can stand to be away from each other for longer. While they don’t enjoy separation, they <em>could</em> be apart for almost half a year, if they had to, without feeling any pain. But Jasper and I can barely go a month before it starts to get unbearable.</p><p>My forehead crumpled with confusion. “I thought you said it might take him a thousand years to come around?”</p><p>“So, you do remember some of what I said,” Alice said brightly, before her face fell and she sighed. “Yes, at the time there was a chance that he might try to fight through the pain. I was hoping not. It can get pretty bad, and I wasn’t eager to see just how bad it would have to get before he finally caved. But he ended up deciding against that.”   </p><p>“So, you weren’t in any pain?” I probed.</p><p>Alice shook her head. “Nothing serious. A day or two before Jasper arrived, I was starting to feel a few twinges here and there. Tiny, sharp, flashes. But they were pretty spread out. Just little reminders of the pain that would come if we didn’t get back together again.”</p><p>I took a step back on the plush carpet in shock. “How bad does <em>that </em>get?”</p><p>Alice gave me a piercing look. “Worse than what Jane can do.”</p><p>I winced. I didn’t have any personal experience with that specifically. But seeing how everyone else writhed on the ground like they were on fire, I thought I could sympathize.</p><p>
  <em>How awful. </em>
</p><p>“So, Jasper feels like he didn’t have a choice?” I asked, just to clarify. “That he <em>had </em>to come here and join the Volturi, despite his misgivings, because he’s mated to you?”</p><p>Alice nodded. And I frowned.</p><p>“What about Hippolytus, and his mate?” I said recalling one of the vampires who’d left during my induction. “He said he had one back in Greece. One who isn’t with us. How come he wasn’t in pain?”</p><p>By all accounts it didn’t make sense. At least, until Alice clarified.</p><p>“Hippolytus and his mate have been together for nearly as long as Aro and Sulpicia have,” Alice informed me. “Their bond is so old, they can be apart for <em>decades</em> at a time, perhaps even <em>a whole century</em> if needed. I’m not sure what his mate’s misgivings with the Volturi are—what prevents him from joining the guard, or at least, living in the fortress. Nor can I be sure what their relationship is like—some of us grow to resent our mates after so many centuries of being stuck together. But I imagine he was able to find time, when things were quiet, to slip back to Greece and reunite with his mate often enough to avoid agony.”</p><p>I took a full second to take all of that in. Then I nodded to show that I’d understood.</p><p>“It isn’t always happily ever after, is it?”</p><p>Alice shook her head gravely. “No. No it is not.”</p><p>…</p><p>Jasper finished packing a few hours later. He didn’t have a room of his own yet—or maybe Alice was hoping he would eventually move into hers?—so when he was done he came back into my room, and lined up his full suitcase against the wall next to mine and Alice’s. After everything was in order, he didn’t so much as say a word to Alice before he turned around and went right back out the door.</p><p>Alice’s lips trembled for a second, and her eyes crinkled like she was going to cry again. But she forced herself to smile at the very last moment, banishing her dark thoughts with a strained, but still blinding, flash of her teeth.</p><p>It was… kind of terrifying, actually.</p><p>But as she left the room to make some other preparations for our upcoming trip, still beaming, I sat down on the edge of my bed and didn’t say anything. She probably felt like she had to put on a strong face for the rest of the guard. Aro had put a lot of pressure on her by giving her the top position in the hierarchy. And I was starting to see now, why she didn’t want it. She couldn’t afford to be seen as weak. Not even for a moment. Or else, like ravening wolves, the other members might see that as an opportunity to pounce.</p><p>Not…<em> literally</em>. Aside from Jane’s occasional, blank-minded taunts, they would never <em>physically </em>attack Alice. And there was only so much scheming they could get away with under the watchful eyes of Aro and Marcus. But if there was anything I’d learned in my month here, it was that no matter how omniscient someone’s powers <em>seemed</em>, there was always a way to get around them if they were familiar enough to you, and you were determined and creative enough.</p><p>Which meant that—even if Aro could read the entirety of someone’s thoughts, and Marcus would be scanning everyone’s relationships constantly—as soon as Alice showed weakness, the other members would start maneuvering, in the shadows, to get her knocked down a peg. Or maybe even taken out of the picture entirely. If they could keep their thoughts in check and make it look like an accident….</p><p>I shuddered, the bedframe creaking underneath me from the force of my horror. But I wasn’t sure how possible that was. The risk of Aro finding out and enacting severe, retributive punishment was probably too high. If he learned someone had tried to get Alice killed….</p><p>…that would be instant death. </p><p>The bedframe creaked again as I pictured the aristocratic lines of Aro’s face, warping with unbridled fury. I could see it in my head, clear as day, how he would react. The initial burst of shock as the thoughts poured in through his skin that would rapidly melt into rage. How his hands would go straight from holding their hand to latching around their throat. How his razor-sharp teeth would descend faster than anyone else could act. How Caius would be waiting in the wings with a flask of gasoline and a lighter…</p><p>I shook myself to make the picture go away. And tried to reassure myself with the knowledge that Aro would never be able to find anything in my thoughts that might invoke his wrath. But I realized then that this was something the other Volturi guard had to know. Even without Alice’s foresight, they had to be able to see what I saw—that Aro would <em>personally </em>kill anyone who seriously threatened Alice.</p><p>Of course, that wouldn’t necessarily stop them from trying to do whatever they could to discredit her. To try and encourage Aro, through subtler means, to move her out of the coveted top spot.</p><p>Being the highest-ranking member of the guard came with significant privileges. Alice didn’t have to answer to anyone except the three leaders. And even then, Aro—the king of kings—seemed to be willing to allow her a significant amount of leeway. So, I could easily imagine, the other Volturi guard members would be willing to risk a <em>little </em>for that same kind of power and influence.    </p><p>While I thought it through, I gritted my teeth to resist the urge to nibble nervously on my lower lip. I wasn’t sure my new teeth wouldn’t saw through my own skin. And I wasn’t about to risk having to glue my own face back together a second time since becoming immortal.</p><p>With my teeth clamped together, I sat motionless on my bed, worrying for a long moment about Alice and her relationships with the rest of the guard. While I knew she hardly cared about her rank, I knew there were at least two members of the guard who would make her life <em>hell</em> if they could manage to scrabble above her. And from what I’d learned in Aro’s etiquette classes, as long as they did not resort to bodily harm, there wasn’t much he could do about it.</p><p>A strongly worded chastisement, even to Aro’s most loyal followers, wouldn’t necessarily deter them from lighting Alice’s entire wardrobe on fire.</p><p>I sat for a moment longer, worrying. Then, suddenly, I realized there was someone who might be able to help. And, before the thought was even fully formed, I was out the door.</p><p>…</p><p>It took me the better part of the rest of the day to find her. I hadn’t exactly paid strict attention to what all the guard members did in their free time. And I still wasn’t allowed anywhere near the library. But eventually, I found the person I was looking for in the last place I looked—the receptionist’s room. </p><p>I remembered passing through the space when I was still human. I remembered the wood-paneled walls. The thick, deep green carpet. The large, brightly lit paintings of the Tuscan countryside hanging everywhere to make up for the lack of windows. The little clusters of pale leather couches. And the glossy tables beside them, carrying crystal vases full of vibrant flowers.</p><p>I <em>also </em>remembered Gianna—Aro’s human secretary—who had been inside last time. And she was the reason I was reluctant to enter the space. The room <em>itself</em> wasn’t off-limits. But I had been rather sternly instructed not to go anywhere <em>near </em>Gianna until Aro deemed me in adequate control over my thirst. And, although I also cared little for rankings, I wasn’t especially keen on disobeying those orders.</p><p>I didn’t want to kill anymore people than strictly necessary.</p><p>But the sun was setting, leeching all of the warmth out of the stone ceilings closest to the ground. And I was beginning to feel a little desperate. After all, making sure Alice didn’t get enmeshed any deeper in Volturi power struggles was kind of a time-sensitive issue. So, despite the risk, I slunk down the wide hall leading from the conference room on one end, past the concealed entrance to the turret room, and toward the heavy wooden door that led into the receptionist area.</p><p>The door had been left slightly ajar, so I peeked in. I eyeballed the high, polished mahogany counter in the center of the room first. Gianna wasn’t sitting there. But that didn’t rule out the possibility that she might be in the room. So, I flicked my eyes around, taking in everything again—this time in much sharper detail.</p><p>
  <em>Still no Gianna. </em>
</p><p>Even with my enhanced eyesight, there was only so much of the room I could see. So, just to be safe, I balled my hands into tight little fists and clenched my teeth, before I braved a tiny, insubstantial inhale.</p><p>At first, nothing wafted in except for the overpowering scent of lilies. Then slowly, as I took a few more experimental sniffs, I caught the other smells of the room. The lush of clean carpet. The woody notes of mahogany. The clear ping of crystal. And, tucked somewhere near the warm smell of leather, the familiar honey and sunshine smell of a fellow immortal.</p><p>I recognized the scent automatically. <em>Finally,</em> I thought.</p><p>Spurred on by the excitement of finally locating the one I’d been searching for, I flicked a few cautious glances around me, then slowly, silently pushed open the door just wide enough for me to slip through. Once I was past the threshold, I padded around the room cautiously, my eyes darting around in all directions to make sure I hadn’t missed anything.</p><p>I didn’t want to run into Gianna by surprise. Even fully sated, I knew that was too risky. But she appeared to be attending to matters elsewhere.</p><p>I breathed a quiet sigh of respite. Which turned out to be a mistake.</p><p>The sound alerted the immortal sitting on one of the couches to my presence. I heard a book snap shut. And when I whipped around to face the noise, the person I’d been looking everywhere for, was glaring ate me with baleful eyes.</p><p>“What do you want,” Chelsea said flatly. “You know you’re not supposed to be in here.”</p><p>I winced. I really didn’t want her to go tattle on me to Aro.</p><p>“Gianna’s not here,” I felt like pointing out.</p><p>Chelsea rolled her eyes. “For <em>now</em>. She left to fetch me the next book in the series,” she explained, brandishing the book in her hands so I could see the words <em>Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban</em> printed across the front. I only had half a second to be surprised by her choice before she added, “She’ll be back in a few minutes. So make it quick.”</p><p>I suffused with panic. <em>So soon?</em></p><p>Terrified by what my newborn instincts might compel me to do if Gianna came into the room while I was still here, I rushed to explain my predicament. “Alice is having a hard time fitting back in. I think a lot of people here have forgotten the bigger picture and are more focused on their rank relative to hers, rather than our goal of defeating the enemy. And I’m worried that their individual interests might…” <em>What were the words Caius had used earlier? Ah yes! </em>“…undermine the effectiveness of the whole.”</p><p>Chelsea looked at me blankly. “And?”</p><p>I scratched the back of my neck. “I was wondering if, well—”</p><p>“You can just order me to do it,” Chelsea interrupted, clearly tired of beating around the bush. She rose from her seat and gestured to my fractionally darker cloak. “You hold a higher station. As I’m sure Master Aro told you, I’m expected to obey your commands,” she explained curtly. </p><p>My eyes flew wide open. I wasn’t expecting <em>that</em>.</p><p>I held up two hands defensively. While that was true…</p><p>“I don’t want to be rude…”</p><p>Chelsea gritted her teeth. “Right now, you’re being ruder by wasting my time. So, out with it,” she snapped. “What do you want me to do?”</p><p>“Could you… smooth things over between the other guards and Alice?” I asked carefully.</p><p>Chelsea made a face. “I can <em>try</em>.”</p><p>The distaste in her voice was palpable. My forehead crumpled with concern.</p><p>“You don’t <em>want</em> to?”</p><p>Chelsea glared at me like I was being especially stupid. “Of course not. But that’s not the issue. I’ll do my best, since you asked,” she explained, her voice still cold and monotone. “And before you get all worried that I’m lying, Master Aro will check to make sure I’ve followed through to the best of my abilities. I simply don’t know what I can promise you. I can only work with what’s already there. And if what’s already there is a lot of hatred and feelings of inadequacy, there’s only so much I can do to help that simmer down.”</p><p>Chelsea’s face soured even further before she continued. “You might want to ask your new blonde friend instead,” she grumbled, malcontent. “He’s probably more suited to this kind of thing.”</p><p>“Jasper?” I pressed.</p><p>Chelsea rolled her eyes. “<em>Obviously</em>.”</p><p>My eyes blinked, bewildered. I wasn’t confused by her tone—I understood well enough why she resented the newest member of the Volturi. The similarity of their powers threatened her position—or so she thought. But I <em>was </em>confused as to why she thought he would be any help.</p><p>
  <em>Does she not understand how his power works? </em>
</p><p>“Well… I mean… Jasper might be able to change their feelings in the <em>moment</em>. Make them feel all warm and fuzzy about Alice for a few minutes. But his powers aren’t going to have any real, lasting staying power,” I explained. Then, after a short pause, I made a sheepish gesture. “Not to mention he’s not on the best terms with Alice right now.”</p><p>“Neither am I,” Chelsea felt the need to point out.</p><p>I cringed. “Yes but… he’s not going to listen to my orders.”</p><p>Chelsea cocked her head. “Then <em>make </em>him.”</p><p>“What?” I sputtered out. “I couldn’t do that! And even if I could… <em>how </em>would I do that?”</p><p>Chelsea shrugged, like the details weren’t her concern. “Enlist Jane. She might rank higher than you, but she’s always down for torture.”</p><p>I recoiled in horror. “<em>Torture?!</em>” I practically screamed. “You want me to <em>torture</em> Jasper to get him to help me?!”</p><p>Chelsea raised a finger to her lips immediately. “<em>Shhh! </em>Keep your voice down! You don’t want the whole fortress to hear what you’re planning, do you?”</p><p>“No. But…” I shook my head in disbelief, “…this all sounds very…”</p><p>I wanted to say <em>illegal</em>. But what I meant was that it was <em>against the rules</em>. Against protocol. As members of the guard, Aro had taught me it wasn’t good etiquette to fight amongst ourselves. And I was pretty sure siccing Jane on Jasper counted as fighting.</p><p>“As someone whose been here a lot longer than you, trust me, Master Aro turns a blind eye to <em>most </em>of Jane’s minor indiscretions.” Chelsea, seeing my look of horror only worsen, switched tactics. “But look, if you don’t want to involve Jane, or Jasper, fine. I really don’t care,” she said in an exasperated tone. “I’ll help as best as I can. Just wait outside for a few minutes. I think I hear Gianna coming back.”</p><p>And sure enough, just then, I heard it too. Several loud clacks of stilettoes. Clacks that fell at uneven intervals—nothing like the fluid, regimented gait of an immortal.</p><p><em>Yup. That’s got to be Gianna. </em> </p><p>I held my breath before her smell could hit me. Then I gave Chelsea a short nod. And zipped back out the way I’d came faster than a human could blink.</p><p>Once I was back in the hallway that led towards the turret room, the conference room, and the rest of the fortress, I stepped a few yards back from the still halfway-open door, and pressed my back up against one of the cool stone walls. I stood there, utterly motionless for a long time, holding my breath, and waiting.</p><p>While I waited, I heard Gianna’s footsteps grow louder. And as the steps swelled, I realized they were accompanied by another, much softer, noise.</p><p>I focused in on that other noise. It was more rhythmic than Gianna’s imperfect steps. And it sounded oddly familiar. But, although my memory was perfect now, it sounded so different from a distance, it took me a few seconds to recall where I had heard it before.</p><p>When it hit me, I felt suddenly stupid. It was a sound I’d heard during both of my meals. And several times in both Aro and Carlisle’s memories.</p><p>The sound of a beating human heart, and blood being pushed through human veins.</p><p>But it was so muffled now as to be almost unidentifiable. And for that I was actually quite grateful. While the sound of a racing human heart wasn’t as difficult to resist as the <em>smell </em>of one, it could still awaken my feeding instincts if it was loud enough.</p><p>I tried tuning it out, focusing on the other sounds again. I heard Gianna’s footfalls come to a gradual halt near where Chelsea was still standing. Then the two conversed briefly.</p><p>Through the cracked door, I could make out all of their quiet conversation. They spoke to one another in Italian. But my brain automatically translated what they were saying now.</p><p>“<em>I retrieved the book you requested, Miss Chelsea</em>,” Gianna said, her tone cordial, businesslike.</p><p>I heard the soft scrape of hardback binding against fingernails as the book changed hands.</p><p>“<em>Thank you, Gianna</em>,” Chelsea replied in the same, formal manner. Although her voice, even impassive, was a thousand times lovelier. She made Gianna sound scratchy and off-key in comparison. </p><p>“<em>Do you require anything else</em>?” Gianna asked.</p><p>I heard the soft <em>whoosh</em> of Chelsea shaking her head. “<em>No, that will be all for now. You may take your leave if you wish</em>.”</p><p>Gianna nodded—another strange thing I could now hear. Then she fidgeted in her heels, hesitating.</p><p>“<em>What is it</em>?” Chelsea demanded.</p><p>Gianna’s heart leapt in her chest with fright at the sudden steel edge in the vampire’s voice. And I heard her breath catch in her throat. But otherwise, she remained perfectly, outwardly calm.</p><p><em>She’s very good at her job,</em> I thought. <em>If I was still human, I would have flinched for sure. </em></p><p>“<em>It’s simply</em>…” Gianna nervously rubbed her elbows. The sound of her fingers brushing across her skin, reminded me of the grit of sandpaper. “<em>Felix promised he would meet me here any minute now. If you wouldn’t mind allowing me to wait</em>…?”</p><p>Chelsea, probably mindful of my presence less than twenty yards away, frowned. But her voice had softened back to neutral when she spoke again.</p><p>“<em>Very well</em>,” she allowed. “<em>You may wait for Felix here. I know how much you mean to him</em>.”</p><p>I didn’t move—I was completely motionless against the cinnamon brown stone wall. But Chelsea’s words brought me up short.</p><p>
  <em>I know how much you mean to him?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What does <strong>that </strong>mean? </em>
</p><p>I didn’t have to wait very long to find out. Just as Gianna had been promised, Felix came into the room through its’ other entrance—the one that led out to the elevator and up to the street level—a minute later. And as soon as his huge, booted feet were through the door, Gianna broke into a run, speeding in his direction.</p><p>As she ran, I heard her feet sink down into her shoes. Then suddenly the <em>thumping </em>of her heels against carpet was replaced by the sound of two large, solid structures coiling around human skin. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say it sounded like Gianna had launched herself into Felix’s arms.</p><p>Either that, or Felix had yanked her off the ground, intending to devour her.</p><p>But I didn’t hear any bloodcurdling screams. Or any wet, slicing sounds to indicate he had bitten her. So, I had to assume she hadn’t been harmed.</p><p>I wasn’t about to breathe in to find out.        </p><p>Felix spun Gianna around—I heard the whoosh of her legs through the air. And she <em>giggled</em>. So that added more fuel to the theory that he wasn’t planning on hurting her. But it also only made me more confused.</p><p>
  <em>What <strong>are </strong>they doing?</em>
</p><p>Just as suddenly as it had started, the <em>whooshing </em>stopped. Then I heard another wet sound, this once like suction. And, at last, I decided my ears simply were not cutting it. Still holding my breath, I inched along the wall slowly, until I could peer again into the room through the door left ajar.</p><p>But nothing could prepare me for what I was about to see.</p><p>Felix and Gianna were locked in an ardent embrace. He held her tight to his chest. Her feet still weren’t touching the ground—her body dangled in the air, suspended by his thick, powerful arms. Her thin tan arms were thrown around his neck. And their lips kept pressing together, over and over, creating that odd suction sound every time.</p><p>If I was still breathing, my breath would have gotten stuck in my throat. <em>They were <strong>kissing</strong>?</em></p><p>It appeared that they were. And not just chaste pecking. But full on Frenching. Right in front of Chelsea, who looked desperately like she wanted to be reading her next Harry Potter book somewhere else.</p><p>I resisted the powerful urge to gasp—I still couldn’t afford to breathe. And watched the pair closely through the gap in the door.</p><p>After a rather passionate make-out session, Gianna finally needed to breathe, so Felix set her down on the carpet again and let her catch her breath. She sucked in several ragged ones, sounding positively winded. Then she smiled bashfully up at Felix, her cheeks flaming with color.</p><p>“<em>Mia amore,</em>” he purred with his beautiful bass voice.</p><p>Even though my opinion of Felix was strictly neutral, the sound sent tingles down my spine. And Gianna, who was clearly besotted, giggled giddily.</p><p>Felix grinned at her in response—and somehow, she managed to read his sudden flash of teeth as endearing rather than menacing. Then his face smoothed in straight, serious lines.</p><p>“<em>I was so worried when I heard our newest member had come near you</em>,” Felix told her in quiet, tense Italian. “<em>His eyes were so black</em>.... <em>I thought for a horrible second that—</em>”</p><p>Gianna shook her head before Felix could finish his sentence, making the tight bun her dark hair was wrapped in, rotate back and forth. “<em>He did not harm me</em>. <em>But he did seem to want to. More than most.</em>”</p><p>Felix balled a huge, pale olive hand into a fist at his sides, the tendons going taut like steel cables. “<em>I hate to see you in danger. But hopefully you will no longer have to be. After I finished my assigned duties for the day, I spoke to Signorino Aro again about the possibility of changing you.</em>”</p><p>Gianna and I both suffused with shock. <em>Changing her? Felix wanted Gianna to be made into a vampire?</em></p><p>If he really did love her as much as he appeared to, it made sense that he would want that. I couldn’t imagine living with the anxiety—the constant fear that one of your immortal companions, or perhaps some rogue criminal might decide, on a whim, to devour your other half.</p><p>But this was all so out of left field for me.</p><p>I <em>thought </em>I remembered Felix winking at Gianna on my way into this fortress. But the memory was just as unreliable as the rest of my human memories. And even if I could trust it, I would have never thought it meant anything like <em>this </em>was going on.</p><p>A few seconds later, when the news, at last, seemed to sink in, Gianna gasped. And at once, she began quivering in her pointy, black Louboutin heels.</p><p>“<em>What did he say?</em>” she demanded, her voice bordering on hysterical.</p><p>Felix’s face was utterly impassive. It was impossible to predict what he might say.</p><p>Still, I wasn’t expecting what I heard next.</p><p>“<em>Signorino Aro says that there is no time to search for your replacement now,</em>” Felix said in a low, sad voice. “<em>Not to mention we already have one newborn to train. But after our business in Seattle is finished, he will honor our affection for one another and permit me to change you.</em>”</p><p>I clung even tighter to the wall just outside the door. It was a mix of good and bad news—for the couple, at least. Good news, because it wasn’t a flat refusal. But bad news because the longer Aro left Gianna human, the higher her likelihood of dying from some unfortunate “mishap” was.</p><p>Gianna, however, was choosing to look on the bright side. “<em>This is great news!</em>” she insisted. “<em>Just a few short months and then I will be one of you?</em>”</p><p>Felix made a stipulating gesture. “<em>As long as you stay out of danger until then. Do you think you can manage that?</em>”</p><p>Gianna nodded enthusiastically. “<em>I’ve survived this long, haven’t I?</em>”</p><p>Felix and I both grimaced. That was no guarantee of anything. But he nodded anyway, before gesturing to where Chelsea sat, pressing her fingers to her temples, and staring pointedly down at the opened book in her lap.</p><p>“<em>I think Chelsea would like us to take the rest of our conversation elsewhere,</em>” he noted in Italian.</p><p>“Yes, <em>please,</em>” Chelsea begged in English.</p><p>Gianna flushed even redder than before in embarrassment. “My apologies, ma’am,” she replied, also in English now. Then she and Felix scurried back the way they came, disappearing through the door that led to the elevator.</p><p>I waited until I heard the electronic mechanism hum to life, carrying the pair up and away, before I peeled myself off the hallway wall. And waited a few extra seconds for good measure before I stopped holding my breath.</p><p>Gianna’s scent lingered faintly in the air. But as I squeezed through the halfway open door, back into the receptionist area, it didn’t bother me in the slightest. It smelled <em>nice</em> of course—a bit like standing next to the open window of a bakery. But I wasn’t thirsty, so it was more perfume than temptation.</p><p>When I touched the dark green carpet again, Chelsea was already standing directly in front of me, both of her Harry Potter books left sitting on one of the polished tables next to a vase of vibrant lilies. Her arms were crossed, and she tapped her foot impatiently—a motion that reminded me of Caius.</p><p>“You ready to go?” she asked.</p><p>I nodded.</p><p>And then, we were off.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, just as a heads up, the next chapter might be a little delayed. Hope you're still enjoying the story!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>CHAPTER TEN: EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>There is one among the guard… </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her name is Chelsea.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> She has influence over the emotional ties between people. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She can both loosen and secure these ties. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She could make someone feel bonded to the Volturi, to want to belong, to want to please them. . .</em>
</p><p><em>-</em> Edward, Breaking Dawn Chapter 31</p><p>…</p><p>I wanted to help <em>everyone </em>feel better about Alice being back, so Chelsea and I worked our way, systematically, through the whole fortress, starting with the lowest level, and moving up. That way we’d be sure to run into everyone.</p><p>Well, everyone minus two. Demetri, who was already out looking for Caius’ son, Theodore. And Heidi, gone to check on the Volturi’s private jet. But I was sure I could tell Chelsea to tackle them later.</p><p>We went to the sparring room first. The long descent down the ancient, spiral staircase to the lowest floor of the Volturi fortress was made short by our inhuman speed. And the double doors stood right in front of the base of stairs, as huge and imposing as ever.</p><p>As soon as Chelsea yanked the iron ring handles, throwing the doors open, it was obvious that the room was empty. She pivoted in place, turning around immediately, seeing no reason to waste time. But I lingered for a moment before I shut the doors, marveling. The towering walls, four stories high, lined red plastic mats, seemed even further apart than before with no one standing between them.</p><p>It was only a short walk from there to the library. We crossed the dim, narrow stone corridor in half a second. And then we stood in front of another pair of equally large, though slightly less sturdy, double doors.</p><p>Chelsea went in alone—since I wasn’t allowed inside—closing the grand, old doors behind her. I stayed behind, in the hallway that linked the two rooms and the catacombs, fidgeting anxiously.  </p><p>Rather than immediately walking out, Chelsea lingered in the library for a few minutes. So I surmised there must be a few Volturi members in there. Members she was taking her time to use her powers on.</p><p>While she did her work, I slowly approached the catacombs. There was no door separating them from the hallway—only a stone arch that led into a wider room, cold and wet like the sewers.</p><p>When I stepped inside, I was impressed by how much of the texture of the stone I could feel, even through my boots; once gritty, but worn almost completely smooth by hundreds, if not thousands of years of moisture. The main room of the catacombs was large. But several smaller rooms were tucked away in the corners. I paced through the space, looking down the moist, stone walls, until I found the room I was looking for.</p><p>The door was a foot thick, and made entirely of metal. A huge beam of metal as thick around as my arm spanned horizontally across it, acting as a deadbolt. And when I went to lift it, I discovered it was <em>heavy. </em>Despite my new strength, which would allow me to lift a car over my head no problem, I actually had to heave with all my might to lift the bolt.</p><p>I gritted my teeth and hefted the beam. Once it was free of the hooks securing it to the wall, I tottered backwards with the beam in my arms. The density of the metal was so extreme it disrupted my balance and threatened to drag me down.</p><p>Eager not to get trapped under such a massive, heavy object, I laid the beam on the ground as quickly as I could without breaking the stone floor. Then I approached the door—which I discovered was heavy, too. I had to lean into it in order to push it open.</p><p>The metal door groaned loudly as it scraped slowly across the stones. When it finally stood open wide enough for me to slip inside, I shivered. And not because of the cold.</p><p>The last time I’d seen this room in Carlisle’s memories, a few tall iron candelabras and two lines of old metal cots had been spaced along the walls. Each of the cots had been decorated with dingy, stained sheets. And each had housed a freshly-turned, golden-eyed vampire.</p><p>Now, of course, it was empty. Not even a single errant bloodstain on the floor to sever as a reminder. But even thought all physical evidence of their presence was gone, I couldn’t help but remember all the newborns who’d once been kept here during Carlisle’s experiment.</p><p>Especially the half that had died as a result.</p><p>
  <em>Chen. Ting. Kalifa. Yvonne. Zain. Mel. </em>
</p><p>I studied each of their gorgeous, immortal faces in my mind’s eye, startled by how perfectly I could recall them, even when the memories weren’t my own. I remembered Yvonne’s long nose and striking blonde hair. Chen’s strong eyebrows and cheeky smile. Ting’s small lips and soft, round face. Zain’s strong jaw, and bald head. Kalifa’s dreadlocks, and wide forehead. Mel’s Grecian nose and curly brown locks. </p><p>And even more, I remembered how those same faces had twisted. First with agony. Then with rage. Then with the all-consuming madness of thirst. Before their eyes had turned into obsidian wells. And they’d stopped moving at all, only gazing emptily at the ancient stone ceiling above me.</p><p>I felt venom stinging the corners of my eyes. Sure, I hadn’t known any of them personally. And Aro had elected not to share their lifetimes’ worth of thoughts with me, so I couldn’t even claim to know them from that perspective. But their deaths were still an unnecessary tragedy. And I was beginning to understand a bit better why Vera—one of the few survivors—was so bitter towards anything even remotely connected to Carlisle Cullen.</p><p>How could she not feel that way? After what she’d seen?</p><p>I kept playing the scenes over and over again in my head. It was bad habit I slipped into often—setting my most traumatic, crystalline memories on repeat, so they would play in front of my eyes like a horror movie that wouldn’t end. But I couldn’t help it. Like all my new reflexes, it was an automatic thing.</p><p>Like breathing used to be.</p><p>I wasn’t sure how long I spent studying the newborns who’d died in my head. Time had no meaning while I was reminiscing. But eventually, I came to my senses. And moved on, leaving the heavy metal door open behind me.     </p><p>There was another room in the catacombs I wanted to visit. A room I’d only heard about, but never visited myself. At first, I wasn’t sure if I would find it. <em>Perhaps after what happened there, it had been destroyed?</em> But eventually, I did locate the room, tucked away in the far corner.</p><p>It was roughly the same size as the other room. Although the door was a lot less guarded. Which made a degree of sense. The first room was used as a dungeon of sorts—meant to keep unruly vampires out of the rest of the castle. But this next room did not require such drastic security measures. It was a laboratory, not a prison.</p><p>Or… at least, it <em>had </em>been a laboratory.</p><p>As I drew aside the thin, rotting wooden door that separated the room from the rest of the catacombs, I realized that this room, too, had been emptied. A few scrapes and indents in the stone attested to the fact that furniture had once stood here. But all the bookcases and papers and clever little machines that had filled the room almost two hundred years ago were gone.</p><p>It wasn’t hard to see why. Only the stone a few feet from the door was unscathed. Stretching across the rest of the room like an angry, black scar, were thick, overlapping scorch marks.     </p><p>I swallowed. And wanted to cry. I knew what had happened here.</p><p>But a hand found its way onto my shoulder before venom could start welling in my eyes again. And the sensation was so totally unexpected, that it jarred me out of my grief completely.</p><p>In fact, it was so sudden, I jumped.</p><p>“Isabella, it’s just me,” Chelsea said, leaping back herself, and throwing up two defensive hands. Just in case the crazy newborn decided to attack.</p><p>I relaxed immediately. Which seemed to put her at ease.</p><p>“Let’s go,” she urged, eyeing the black walls around us with trepidation. Like they scared her.    </p><p>I nodded. There was no real reason for us to stay here in this room and wallow in grief. So, wordlessly, a moment later, I followed her out of the catacombs.</p><p>…</p><p>We took the spiral staircase in front of the sparring room to the next floor. There we found a luxuriant hall that looked like a larger version of the receptionist area. The room was warm enough and bright enough to make humans comfortable. The walls were paneled with the same expensive wood. The carpet was soft and lush. Cozy groupings of creamy couches were spread around, next to glossy coffee tables.</p><p>It was a little different, however. The couches had accent pillows. The carpet was mottled beige instead of green. An assortment of magazines sat in a neat stack on each table, instead of a vase of flowers. Thick, rectangular stone columns, with gold-trimmed corners supported the long ceiling. Large pots filled with tall, leafy plants, were propped against them. And, at regular intervals, electrically-powered chandeliers hung down, dripping with Swarovski crystal teardrops.  </p><p>While Chelsea strode into the room with purpose, again I lingered in the door frame, marveling for a few seconds. Then I walked in slowly after her, drinking everything in.</p><p>I counted every wood grain. Every minute imperfection in the dangling crystals. Every fiber of the tastefully patterned accent pillows. Every microscopic chip of gold leaf that had fallen off the column edges…. </p><p>As I padded across the carpet, I noticed the paneling along the walls was interrupted in a few places. Three pairs of gleaming elevator doors, all leading to different parts of the castle, cut into the wainscoting to my right. And, at the end of the hall, was a small wooden door that led out into the area of the fortress that was accessible to the public.</p><p>We didn’t go through it.</p><p>Even though it was the middle of the night, and the lobby beyond was totally empty of humans—I could tell from the lack of clamoring footsteps and beating hearts—there was no reason to go out there. Only Heidi regularly passed through there, when leading our dinner in on a “private tour.” And she was gone. So, it was pointless to mill around between the mahogany furniture and stacks of travel brochures when we weren’t going to find anyone.</p><p>Instead, we paced quickly through the room we were in right now, checking for stray Volturi guards. And when we found none, we moved on.</p><p>…</p><p>We took one of the elevators up to the next floor. It was small—there was only one room on it, the same size as the hall on the previous floor. But it couldn’t have been more different.</p><p>Cheap, canned electric lights had been cut into the ceiling, though they were turned off at the moment. The floor was polished hardwood. And there wasn’t a column in sight—just a long, wide room, supported by a few thick wooden beams across the ceiling.</p><p>The furniture was different too. Dark bookcases lined the creamy walls, filled past overflowing with video games, DVD cases, VHS tapes, cassettes and old film reels. Several large tower speakers were scattered around the room, playing low music, interspersed with voices. And most, strangely, a series of long couches were grouped around the expansive far wall, illuminated by a bright picture cast from a movie projecter mounted on the ceiling.</p><p>I blinked once, twice, in shock, as I took in the sight. Aro hadn’t told me the Volturi had an <em>entertainment center</em>.</p><p>Then, eyeing the bookcases again, I wondered if that omission had been deliberate. Perhaps, until I could manage not to destroy almost everything I touched, I wasn’t supposed to be here either?</p><p>I tried not to worry about it too much. I wasn’t planning on touching anything. While Chelsea walked up behind the long couches, and squinted in concentration, I hung back by the door, watching the projected movie.</p><p>It was an old black and white film I didn’t recognize. And despite the incessant hiss of the low-quality audio and the haze of scribbly lines that interrupted the picture now and again, the three immortals sitting on the sofa seemed to be enjoying it.</p><p>Petra, the lower-ranking guard with ivory skin and freckles, laughed and pointed at one of the characters on screen. He was a tall man with slicked back hair, wearing a black, high-collared cape. And though, I knew I hadn’t seen this movie before, I swore he looked familiar.</p><p>“<em>This is what humans think we look like?</em>” Petra snorted in Italian. </p><p>Kadir, sitting beside her, wearing clothes with arabesque patterns under his Volturi garb, lifted up the hem of his greyish cloak for her to see. “<em>Well, you have to admit, they got the cape sorta right</em>.”</p><p>Xavier, his sienna skin glowing slightly blue under the glare of the projector, folded his arms and huffed, “<em>Everyone used to wear capes like that. It’s not our fault mortals wrongly decided to phase them out</em>.”</p><p>Another character moved on screen and started speaking then, ushering the three vampires into silence. Or maybe it was Chelsea’s powers, being exerted on the backs of their heads?</p><p>I couldn’t be sure.</p><p>But the silence from the three let me hear the new character call the caped man’s name. And when I heard it, I went even stiffer than usual.</p><p>
  <em>Dracula. </em>
</p><p>Of course. <em>Of course, they had to be watching Dracula. </em>It was the quintessential vampire movie.</p><p>And that would explain why the man looked familiar. Bela Lugosi’s Dracula had been a <em>staple</em> of Halloween decorations as long as I’d been alive. An unforgettable image. The image the rest of the world had of our kind.</p><p>I felt something like a smirk creeping onto my face. While Kadir had a point—we in the Volturi almost dressed the part, only exchanging the high collar for a hood—so did Petra. As iconic of an image as Dracula was, he captured absolutely none of the ethereal beauty real vampires had.</p><p>I wondered for a moment why that might be. Why every depiction of a vampire I’d seen before I’d met Edward was so visually off-putting, if not down-right ugly. I decided after half a second it was probably because humans couldn’t stand to think that monsters could be beautiful.</p><p>After all, that contradicted all of their beliefs.</p><p>Chelsea finished her work then. When she stopped staring at the backs of the three immortals’ heads like she was trying to telekinetically bend a spoon, they resumed their conversation like nothing had happened. I wasn’t even sure they’d noticed she was there, until, just before we left, Petra called out, in English, over her shoulder.</p><p>“Hey, Isabella! Want to join us?” she said brightly, before gesturing to the screen. “We’re watching the <em>original </em>vampire movie.”</p><p>Xavier rolled his eyes. “Nosferatu came out before this.”  </p><p>Petra waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “Whatever, you know what I mean.”</p><p>I looked anxiously between her and Chelsea. A part of me <em>did</em> want to stay. Watching a movie was such a <em>normal</em> thing to do. And I hadn’t had a decent, normal thing in my life since Alice and I had left for Volterra.</p><p>But the look Chelsea gave me brokered no room for argument. So, reluctantly I shook my head.</p><p>“Some other time, maybe,” I said.</p><p>Petra briefly pouted—an expression that made her look childlike—before she shrugged. “I get it, you’re busy right now. But we’d be happy to hang out any time. And—oh!” she exclaimed like something had just occurred to her. “Bring Alice, too! I’m sure she’s already seen it, but it’d be fun to have her around.”</p><p>Kadir and Xavier nodded in assent. And I flickered another uneasy glance between the three vampires in front of the projector and Chelsea. <em>Was this her doing?</em>  </p><p>I thought that was probably the case. Chelsea didn’t say anything to confirm or deny, though. Instead she glowered at me. And I, realizing I must be wasting her precious time, said my goodbyes and ducked out the door.</p><p>…</p><p>Again, we took the elevator. The next floor up housed the turret room, the receptionist’s area, the conference room, and a maze of long, winding hallways that led into a hundred tiny rooms. We stopped by the turret room first, which was empty. Then wound our way through the labyrinth, checking each of the little rooms individually for any stray Volturi guards.</p><p>Half of the rooms were filled with what I could only describe as garbage. Perhaps once it had held value to someone. But all of it was so thoroughly broken or otherwise destroyed that I sometimes couldn’t even identify what it <em>used </em>to be. Most of the rest housed small collections—artefacts not impressive or rare enough to be housed in the main library. And a few were empty except for a few pieces of furniture—like the room Marcus taught me history in, or the room Aro had changed me in.</p><p>We met Santiago, Corin, Yuki, Makenna along the way.</p><p>Santiago was organizing a file cabinet full of folders marked with unfamiliar names and dates, and organized into categories by crime: EXPOSURE TO HUMANS, EXCESSIVE CREATION OF NEWBORNS, CREATION OF IMMORTAL CHILD and OTHER THREATS. Corin was hand embroidering, faster than any machine could, a long chain of intricate flowers along the hem of a yellow sundress. Makenna was practicing calligraphy in a room overflowing with felt-tip pens and fancy stationary. And Yuki was pinning a dead spider to a board full of bugs she’d found around the castle.</p><p>Chelsea didn’t interrupt any of them. In fact, she didn’t even speak to them. As soon as she saw each vampire, she squinted at them, willing their relationship with Alice to be better for a few seconds. Then, when she was finished, she would turn around and leave.</p><p>I thought it was rude at first. But—although I knew they could hear and see us—the four basically treated us like we weren’t even there. Only Corin acknowledged me—handing me a small wad of scrap muslin to test my strength with, as promised.</p><p>And I guessed, after I’d pocketed it and left, that this was how it usually went. That Chelsea using her powers among the Volturi was so routine as to be nothing noteworthy.</p><p>…</p><p>We went through the large golden doors at then end of the main hallway next, into the conference room. Marcus and Caius were nowhere to be seen—the intricately carved wooden thrones atop the stone dais at the end of the room were empty. But Aro was sitting, with one leg crossed over the other, in the center throne. And, to my surprise, Jasper was standing in front of him, his honey-blonde hair glowing orange in the dim candlelight.</p><p>He didn’t exactly look <em>happy </em>to be there. His shoulders were stiff under his new, near-gray cloak, and his face was pulled tight. But, for whatever reason, he was doing his best not to openly frown.</p><p>
  <em>Maybe he’s worried about upsetting Aro?</em>
</p><p>I couldn’t be sure. But while Chelsea drifted across the cinnamon brown stones, between the iron candelabras lining the walls, moving close enough to use her skills, I watched the two men carefully, hoping it might enlighten me.</p><p>“Now, Jasper, are you able to give me a demonstration of your abilities now?” Aro asked.</p><p>Jasper’s lip twitched downwards fractionally, before he schooled it back into place. “Of course, <em>sir</em>.”</p><p>He bit out each word like it physically wounded him. But Aro either did not notice Jasper’s tone, or pretended not to. Instead of being put-off by the younger vampire’s unenthusiasm, his aristocratic face lit up, and he clapped his hands with excitement.</p><p>“Let’s see it, then!”</p><p>Jasper narrowed his eyes and switched them nervously back and forth across the room. “On <em>whom</em> do you wish me to use my powers? Bella? Chelsea?” he asked, as his crimson eyes fell on each of us in turn.</p><p>Aro shook his head. “Chelsea is merely here to strengthen our ties, isn’t that right, Isabella?”</p><p>I wasn’t sure why he was asking <em>me.</em> <em>Could he know already, what I’d asked her to do?</em> <em>Did information travel that fast? Was it really impossible to hide anything from Aro? </em></p><p>But I nodded anyway. It was truth. Even if Aro had—probably on purpose—not mentioned exactly the ties to <em>whom </em>she was strengthening.</p><p>Jasper roiled in discomfort. “She’s going to use her power on me?”</p><p>Aro turned his eyes toward Chelsea, who was already concentrating on Jasper, like she was trying to lift him in the air with only the force of her mind, then looked back at Jasper. He cocked an eyebrow.</p><p>“I believe she already has begun.”</p><p>“<em>What</em>?” Jasper wheeled around and glared at the light-brown-haired girl. “Did I give you <em>permission</em> to mess around with my feelings?”</p><p>The look in Jasper’s eyes was so piercing I swore it should have cut straight through her. But Chelsea didn’t relent. Her tawny eyebrows remained furrowed in concentration. And her ruby-red eyes locked with his.</p><p>Jasper tensed, like he was about to spring. But before he could do anything rash or violent, Aro clicked his tongue in chastisement.</p><p>“Tsk, Tsk, Tsk. There is no need to get violent. Besides,” Aro added, “Do <em>you </em>always ask before you use <em>your</em> powers?”</p><p>Jasper froze. Then looked bashfully down at his feet, realizing he was being a hypocrite. “Well… no…. But sir, she—!”</p><p>“—Is only trying to make your assimilation into our coven smoother,” Aro finished for him. “After all, she cannot make you feel anything you do not already, to some degree, feel.”</p><p>Jasper nodded, reluctantly then. And forced himself to take a deep, calming breath. Then another. And another.</p><p>Once Aro seemed satisfied with Jasper’s composure, he continued. “Now, as I was saying before, would you be willing to give <em>me</em> a demonstration?”</p><p>Jasper didn’t miss the double-meaning in Aro’s words. “Wait, you want me to use my powers on <em>you</em>, sir?”</p><p>Gleefully, Aro nodded.</p><p>Jasper shrunk back a few steps, obviously startled by this turn of events. But he tried his best to keep his expression neutral. “I’m not sure that is wise…”</p><p>Aro shook his head, his long black hair sailing around him. “Nonsense. I have seen what your powers can do to others. But I want to feel their effects for myself. And it is not as if you have <em>Jane’s</em> gift,” he pointed out. “I asked her to use it on me once, just out of curiosity….” He shook his head again, chuckling to himself, while Jasper, who had heard what the girl could do, stared on in horror. “…that was an… <em>experience</em>.”</p><p>Aro laughed to himself, reminiscing fondly for a moment longer, before he came back to earth. “So, you have nothing to fear, dear Jasper. Give me the <em>full range</em> of emotions as powerfully as you can. I want to experience <em>everything</em>, no matter how unpleasant.”</p><p>Jasper, finally, did allow himself to frown. “There are positive emotions I can make you feel as well.” He didn’t seem happy that Aro had left those out.</p><p>Aro smiled. “Would you be more comfortable if we started with one of those?” he asked genially.  </p><p>Jasper slowly nodded.</p><p>“Then let’s begin,” Aro urged, making an impatient gesture that reminded me of Caius. Though his face was still the picture of polite grace.</p><p>Jasper let out a soft sigh. Then, in seeming compliance, he squared his stance. And looked at Aro with the same intensity Chelsea was looking at him.</p><p>I couldn’t be sure if it was working right away. Emotional powers weren’t exactly <em>visible</em> in and of themselves. But the changes on Aro’s face gave it away soon enough.</p><p>Aro was already smiling. It started as a small, closed-lipped affair. But after a few seconds, it started to gradually widen. It spread first into the sort of expression one might make for a camera. Then kept spreading, wider and wider, past the point where it was eerie, until it flourished into one of Aro’s signature, maniacal grins.</p><p>Jasper made him stay like that, beaming, with lips stretched as far apart as they possibly could, for a few seconds. Then, without warning, Aro’s head suddenly tilted back and he began to laugh.</p><p>I jumped.</p><p>It shouldn’t have startled me. Again, it started small. A little snort of air, followed by a serious of low chuckles, before it finally blossomed into full-blown laughter. But then, rather than levelling off, it kept going. And <em>that </em>was what disturbed me most. As Jasper increased the intensity of his stare, Aro’s laughs got progressively louder and more hysterical, far beyond anything I’d ever heard, until he was doubled over, and cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West.</p><p>Again, Jasper sustained Aro at the pinnacle of emotion, for several seconds, perhaps testing if Aro would collapse on the ground and start rolling across the floor laughing. And during that time, I swore everyone in the fortress could hear Aro’s raucous laughter bouncing off the high, echoing walls. The sound was deafening. </p><p>At last, when Chelsea was about to break her concentration to tell him to cut it out, Jasper seemed satisfied. He nodded, like he was making a mental note. Then suddenly, like flipping a switch, Aro’s laughter died.</p><p>After the sound cut out, Aro placed a hand on his chest—still heaving with the aftershocks of laughter—and took a moment to compose himself.</p><p>“Ah,” he sighed. “Such mirth! I have not felt like that in ages!”</p><p>Still shaking a little from the force of the humor that hadn’t quite left his body yet, Aro made another impatient motion towards Jasper. “Now let’s try the opposite!”</p><p>Jasper nodded in wordless compliance. Then immediately, Aro’s smile melted into a cavernous frown.</p><p>There was nothing gradual about it this time. The corners of lips instantly went from tilted slightly upwards, to all the way down. The light in his eyes abruptly died. And, all of sudden, he reminded me of Marcus.</p><p>Jasper sustained the emotion at its peak again. And while Aro did his best not to let it affect him, eventually he couldn’t help it. His crimson eyes filmed over, the same way Alice’s had earlier today. His bottom lip quivered with unreleased sobs. And his fingertips started to shake.</p><p>Perhaps, to test his resolve, Jasper kept Aro under the full-force of this negative emotion longer than the previous two positive ones. The seconds ticked by slowly, painfully. And all the while Aro suffered silently, looking like he was enduring the most harrowing sorrow a person could ever feel. </p><p>He never did allow himself to cry out. But after a minute, at last, on the verge of breaking down, Aro gritted his teeth and clutched the fabric of his robes over his unbeating heart.</p><p>“My, <em>my</em>,” he breathed. “That <em>hurts</em>,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “<em>Please</em>,” he begged. “Give me something positive?”</p><p>I sucked in a breath of surprise. I’d never heard Aro sound <em>that desperate</em> before. It sounded like he was <em>dying</em>. And begging Jasper to spare him.</p><p>Luckily, Jasper did. As soon as Aro made his supplication, Jasper hit him with a new emotion. And I watched, rapt with fascination, as the gloom dissipated, replaced only by sunny happiness. As Aro’s despairing frown stretched back quickly into a warm smile.</p><p>“Ah, much better,” Aro sighed, pleased, a moment later. “You remind me of my sister.”</p><p>Jasper released his grip over Aro’s emotions immediately. Then he and I both turned to look at Aro, bewildered.</p><p>“Your sister?” I asked.</p><p>“Ah, did I not mention it?” Aro said, surprised that I had not heard.</p><p>I shook my head. And Aro, to me relief, decided to fill me in.</p><p>“Before the…” he tapped his chin in thought choosing his words delicately, “Before the… tragedy… Didyme had a gift whose effects were very similar to what I felt just moments ago. She, however, could not control it like young Jasper can,” he explained. “Anyone who stepped close enough to her fell under its power.”</p><p>“What, like an aura of happiness?” I asked. That seemed to be what he was describing, anyway.</p><p>Aro nodded. “That is one way to put it.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you say anything before?” I asked.</p><p>Aro shook his head, his ebony locks rippling with the movement. “I did not<em> intentionally</em> omit that piece of information,” he revealed. “I believed you would learn about it through my memories. Though I suppose, on recall, that I did not think of it much, after I discovered it.”</p><p>That piqued my interest. “Why not?”</p><p>Aro shook his head again, this time in mild exasperation with himself. “I always believed that it was… not a very useful power,” he admitted sadly, like he regretted thinking as much. “It could not be used in combat or information gathering. So, for millennia, I deemed it unworthy of my concern. I only began to understand its true value after it was gone. Happiness is <em>so rare</em>.”</p><p>I nodded in comprehension. Even if it wasn’t how I saw the world, I understood somewhat, from having seen some of Aro’s memories of the past, and seeing how he treated Afton in the present, why he might think that way. Usefulness to the Volturi was the main criterion for value in his mind.</p><p><em>If your power isn’t useful, why even have one at all?</em> I could imagine him thinking.</p><p>While I mulled that over, I flicked my eyes around the room. Chelsea was still concentrating fiercely on the back of Jasper’s head. I guessed his emotions involving Alice were a lot more complicated, so it was taking her longer to work through them than the others. So, in the meantime, while I waited for her to be finished, I let Aro and Jasper get back to it.</p><p>They tried anger next. And Jasper did not disappoint. He was able to make Aro spitting mad—like Caius on steroids. His brows were furrowed into such a severe “V” I was worried it would leave permanent marks on his face. And he kept shaking, every muscle vibrating with barely contained rage.</p><p>It was a miracle he didn’t shout or lunge for Jasper’s throat.</p><p>When Aro decided he’d had enough of that, Jasper reset him back to happy while they deliberated on the next emotion to try. In the next few minutes, they went through every one I could think of. Fear. Jealousy. Disgust. Joy. Loneliness. Embarrassment. Contentment. Anxiety. Thoughtfulness. Mania. Charity. Reservation. Paranoia. Magnanimity. And a thousand others I could not name.</p><p>Between each one, Jasper gave Aro another dose of the happiness that reminded him of his late sister, as a sort of palate cleanser. And, while Aro balanced out, I checked Chelsea’s progress. But, every time I looked, she still wasn’t finished.</p><p>At last, when I thought they’d exhausted everything, Aro said, “There is one last emotion I would like to try.” Then his eyelids fell hooded, and his voice dripped with suggestion. “You know the one.”  </p><p>Jasper went stiff as a board and looked like he wanted to turn green. “Absolutely <em>not</em>.”</p><p>“Oh, come now, there’s no need to be embarrassed,” Aro urged in a warm, friendly voice before his tone turned suggestive again. “I already know how you have made your<em> mate</em> feel, on occasion.”</p><p>“That’s—!” Jasper roared, before he suddenly seemed to remember who he was talking to. “Private….” he muttered in a small voice, looking down at the stones beneath his feet. “I’m <em>not </em>doing that to you, sir.”</p><p>Aro pouted. “Not even <em>once</em>?”</p><p>Jasper gritted his teeth. “Fine.” Then, as if issuing a challenge, he cocked an eyebrow. “But are you sure you’ll be able to handle it?”   </p><p>Aro grinned, almost as widely as Jasper had made him at the beginning of this series of tests. “Do your <em>worst</em>.”     </p><p>I almost expected Jasper to offer one, final protest. If Aro was asking him to do what I <em>thought, </em>then…</p><p>But Jasper didn’t waste any time. As soon as Aro’s taunt reached his ears, he shot a searing glare at the older vampire. And his emotional powers hit Aro like a collision with a semi-truck.</p><p>“Oh!” Aro gasped, soft, and floaty. Then, like he was experiencing post-feed ecstasy, his head tilted back, and he could not restrain himself from moaning. “Oh <em>my</em>! Ah!”</p><p>While Jasper maintained the force of his powers, Aro visibly writhed with pleasure. Unlike every other emotion, which he’d seemed to be able to have some kind of grip on, no matter how intense it got, he seemed entirely unable to contain himself. He kept moaning, in total abandon. And if we could have blushed, both Aro’s and my cheeks would have been flaming.</p><p>Aro’s eyes rolled back, as if he was seeing stars. “<em>Jasper</em>,” he purred in delight.  </p><p>Jasper leapt backwards, disgusted. And suddenly, it was over.</p><p>Aro, who looked like he’d suddenly been hit with a wet blanket, frowned. “Pity, we were just getting to the good part.”</p><p>“Not going to happen, sir.” Jasper was adamant.</p><p>Aro shook his head ruefully. “I understand,” he allowed, reluctantly. “Still, it is impressive that you are able to invoke such… <em>powerful</em> <em>sensations</em> without even touching someone,” he remarked, impressed. “Alice is <em>very</em> lucky.”</p><p>Jasper balled his hands into tight white fists at his sides and gritted his teeth. “Please, sir,” he bit out tersely. “Don’t talk to me about… things like <em>that</em>.”</p><p>He obviously wasn’t happy that Aro was prying into the details of his sex life. Let alone trying to talk with him about them. And to be perfectly honest, neither was I.</p><p>
  <em>How embarrassing. </em>
</p><p>A faint smile graced Aro’s lips. “Only if you keep her happy,” he promised. “Dear Alice has missed you. And I do so hate to see her unsatisfied.”</p><p>I ducked my head. Both witnessing Jasper filling Aro with pleasure, and listening to this conversation made me feel like I was trespassing.</p><p>But both men simply acted like Chelsea and I weren’t there.</p><p>Aro looked like he was about to go on. Then Jasper held up his hands, like he was about to plug his ears if Aro said any more.</p><p>Aro laughed at Jasper’s reaction. Then changed the course of the conversation. “I apologize. I understand those things are very personal,” he assured the younger vampire in a sympathetic tone. “But I cannot help what I see. And I will not stand to watch two of my guards to unnecessarily abstain from each other, when I know they both crave communion.”</p><p>Aro interlaced his fingers together suggestively on the last word. And if I’d been human, I might have fainted from shock.</p><p>
  <em>Was Aro really ordering Jasper to go make love to his mate? Or, at least strongly suggesting that?</em>
</p><p>It certainly looked like it.    </p><p>Jasper ducked his head then too, preferring to study the grout lines than look Aro in the eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind, sir,” he said in a bashful voice. “Now, may I go?”</p><p>He fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. He obviously wanted to leave. But, until Aro gave him the okay, etiquette kept him rooted in place.</p><p>Aro pondered that for a moment before waving a hand in the direction of the door. “You may.”</p><p>Jasper wasted no time scurrying out. And, luckily Chelsea finally appeared to be finished. So, after we both gave Aro a perfunctory acknowledgment, she and I left behind him.</p><p>…</p><p>We found Marcus and the rest of the guard in their private rooms on the next two floors. While they packed and otherwise prepared for the upcoming trip to Seattle, Chelsea worked her powers on each in turn. Unlike with Jasper, she only had to concentrate for a few seconds while each guard member was in eyeshot to make the change. And I surmised that must mean their relationships with Alice must be less intricate.  </p><p>Again, most of them didn’t even notice we were there. And the few that did notice us did not seem to think anything was remiss with Chelsea doing a little tweaking of their emotional bonds. I guessed again, that most of them were probably used to it.</p><p>After we finished checking every private room, we went up to the highest level of the fortress, just to be sure we ran into everyone. Most of the level was part of the castle façade—the outside front we presented to the rest of the world, full of office cubicles and fake paperwork. But before we reached that, there was another, luxuriant hall. And, closest to the elevator, another grouping of tiny rooms, like the ones next to the turret room.</p><p>We didn’t find any guard members in any of the uppermost rooms. But we did find Titania and Lucretia playing in a little room stuffed with toys. While Chelsea exerted her gift on them, for good measure, I took a cursory look around.</p><p>About half of the girls’ playthings looked like some attempt had been made to manufacture them to stand up to inhuman play. But all of it looked like it had seen better days. Along with more of the same indented metal blocks I’d seen them play with earlier, they had a huge collection of bent spinning tops, crushed yo-yos, flattened marbles, and a mountain of plush stuffed animals, missing limbs and eyes.</p><p>I shuddered as my eyes passed over a particularly mangled doll, which was missing its head and spilling fluffy white stuffing from its severed neck. It reminded me a little too much of my first meal. And I had to look away before the sensation of matted, bloody hair crept back into my fingers.  </p><p>When Chelsea was finished, she gestured for me to leave. The girls waved their little hands happily at us as we walked out. And while Chelsea didn’t give them so much as a backward glance, I waved back.</p><p>…</p><p>Above that, there was only one more place in the fortress—the tower. A little staircase that started on the highest floor of the castle, went outside, and wound up and around the tall spire. Chelsea and I took it, with her leading the way.</p><p>It was a new moon again, and clouds blocked out the stars, rendering the sky featureless and black. But despite the darkness, I could see the stone steps in front of me as clear as day. So when Chelsea threw open the door leading outside, I wasn’t nervous, despite my legendary clumsiness, and the treacherousness of the path ahead.</p><p>However, as soon as we stepped outside, the wind blasted my skin. It was ice cold—which, luckily no longer hurt—but it was so <em>distracting</em> I nearly lost my balance. And as the frigid air tickled my skin, it carried with it so many smells…</p><p>The familiar, chalky smell of brick was everywhere, of course. But I could also smell the grime of the city. The gritty scent of dirt and dust. The metal tang of cars and buses. The sweet and pungent odor of leaking gasoline. And beyond all the city smells, I could smell the distant, dewy grass hills, and the fresh scent of birch trees.      </p><p>It took all of my concentration to steady myself. Then, rather than risking another whiff, I held my breath, and plodded up the stairs after Chelsea. That way I wouldn’t accidentally smell any tantalizing humans milling around in the town below. And, I could focus on making sure I didn’t make a wrong step and fall off the side of the tower.</p><p>The steps curling around the tower were narrower than I would have liked. And there was no railing. So I guessed this place was never intended to entertain human guests. It was hard enough for me—an immortal—to navigate. So I couldn’t imagine Gianna trying to clamber up here in her precarious Louboutin stilettos. </p><p>I felt a rush of relief when the door leading into the tower came into sight. <em>Finally, I’ll be able to stand on solid ground again. </em></p><p>But just before Chelsea could reach for the handle, she abruptly turned around, and tried to come back down. I wasn’t sure what had prompted that action. But her normally emotionless face was suddenly the picture of horror. And I, who stood blocking her path, looked up at the door leading inside with confusion.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” I asked anxiously.</p><p>“Let’s go,” she whispered urgently, holding a finger to her lips with one hand, and using the other to gesture for me to turn around and go back.</p><p>I didn’t move. “Why?” I whispered back.</p><p>“Just go!” she hissed.</p><p>I remained in place. And a moment later, I wished I hadn’t.</p><p>Behind the door, I heard sounds. Low, moaning sounds, interspersed with a loud, rhythmic striking sound.  Like two huge stone boulders were quickly and repeatedly crashing into one another at regular intervals.</p><p>It took me half a second to realize what I was listening to. But only half a second. My impeccable hearing was able to pick out the voices quickly—<em>Caius </em>and <em>Athenodora</em>. And I wasn’t too naïve to miss what the <em>other</em> noises meant.</p><p>I felt my head spin, feeling suddenly sick. Then, just as Chelsea had urged me to do earlier, I turned around, and zipped back down the stairs as fast as I could.</p><p>“That’s everyone,” Chelsea informed me flatly, once we reached the uppermost floor of the castle again. “I cannot promise anything, but I’ve done my best to improve their relationships with Alice. Now, if you don’t need anything else, I’m going to go back to my books.”</p><p>I nodded, my head still reeling from what I’d heard. “That’s fine. Go ahead.”</p><p>Chelsea let relief wash over her face for a forty-eighth of a second. Then, before I could say anything else, she vanished.</p><p>…</p><p>I went back to my private room after that. Alice was off somewhere else, probably making more preparations for the upcoming trip, and I didn’t want to bother her. So, without anything else to do, I busied myself with the scrap of muslin Corin had given me.</p><p>When I pulled the wad out of my jacket pocket and unraveled it, I discovered it was a long, creamy colored, swath of fabric. I fingered the edges tentatively. It was thin enough to be translucent, and it felt remarkably fragile. But I surmised that would make it the perfect thing to test my strength with.</p><p>If I could manage not to tear this to shreds, then I could probably safely handle anything.</p><p>Maybe I could even touch my computer again.</p><p>I flicked a glance toward the untouched boxes of my things Alice had brought here from Forks, which I’d relegated to the far corner. The smell of my human-self had dissipated, so they weren’t intolerable to stand next to anymore. But I still hadn’t opened them for fear of breaking anything. And I hoped Alice had come up with a good excuse for Charlie. She’s said when she’d first hauled them in that I could contact him again. But, even if I was a remarkably fast learner, it would probably be months before I could trust myself not to smash my laptop keyboard in.</p><p>I focused my eyes back on the fabric in my hands again. Then gave the very corner of one end a tiny, experimental tug.</p><p>The fabric tore almost completely in half. And I swore, loudly.</p><p>
  <em>Okay, softer than that. </em>
</p><p>I tried again with a different corner. This time, I exerted only the tiniest amount of pressure, like I was trying to caress a butterfly’s wing. And the fabric only frayed a little.</p><p>I sighed. <em>That’s better</em>, I thought, examining the much smaller tear. <em>But still not soft enough. </em></p><p>I kept practicing for the better part of an hour, trying to figure out just how much strength would tear the fabric into ribbons, and how much would allow me to tug, but keep the fabric intact. I wasn’t having much success with the latter—it was so <em>easy </em>to rip the fabric. But I <em>was</em> getting a sense, from how long each tear I was making turned out to be, of how to moderate my strength a little.</p><p>I was interrupted after a while, however, by a sudden blare of loud, tasteless music. It was coming from the room directly below me. And having just gone through each and every room in the Volturi fortress, not too long ago, I could pinpoint exactly which guard member that room belonged to.</p><p>
  <em>Afton. </em>
</p><p>I grimaced. Normally, I would have been tempted to go down there and tell him to turn it down. Since almost everyone in the fortress had super-hearing, I couldn’t be the only one bothered by that <em>godawful </em>noise. And it wasn’t like, as an immortal, he needed to have it that loud anyway—the lowest setting on his CD player would have been plenty loud enough.</p><p>But there was one thing holding me back. <em>Chelsea.</em></p><p>I still wasn’t sure I’d made the right choice, by enlisting her to smooth out everyone’s relationships with Alice. She clearly didn’t like the girl herself. And I had no way whatsoever to verify for myself that she’d <em>strengthened </em>those ties and not <em>loosened </em>them.</p><p>But, despite my uncertainties about where her loyalties lied, the one thing I did know, was that I didn’t want to get on her bad side. And antagonizing her mate was a good way to do just that.</p><p>So, instead of confronting him, I sighed, dropped my mostly shredded piece of muslin, letting it flutter onto the carpet, and put my fingers in my ears. They drowned out the bulk of the noise—for which I was grateful. But despite my best efforts, some of it still reached me.</p><p>It was muffled and garbled, like it was coming from underwater. But the sound was still unbearably loud. Like a train engine chugging past, or a fighter jet taking off right in front of me. And my new, highly sensitive ears rattled with discomfort. </p><p>The music blared, obnoxious and discordant for a few painful seconds longer. Then, when I was just about to change my mind and bother Afton anyway, I heard a sudden crash, which prompted me to wrench my fingers out of my ears. Followed by a string of angry cuss words coming from Afton.</p><p>“Keep that <em>foul </em>noise you call ‘music’ down!” Caius roared, his voice echoing through the floor beneath me.</p><p>“You broke my CD player!” Afton protested, equally loud.</p><p>“Be grateful I did not break anything <em>else</em>,” Caius hissed, a bit quieter now, but with no less steel.  “I am sure, with the handsome funds my brother bestows upon you and your mate each month, that you can afford another one. You will not, however, be able to afford another<em> head</em>.”</p><p>“Is that a threat?” Afton asked.</p><p>Caius didn’t say anything. But I could imagine the look on his face. It was mind-bogglingly stupid question. <em>Of course, </em>that was a threat.</p><p>After an awkward beat of silence, Afton answered with a threat of his own. “Chelsea will hear about this!” he whined.</p><p>It was a pathetic comeback. I could almost hear Caius rolling his eyes.</p><p>“And what will <em>she</em> do? he said in a low, cold voice, almost inaudible through the stone floor.</p><p>Afton didn’t seem to know the answer to that. I imagined he was standing there helplessly, looking like a total fool. Or maybe even cowering against one of his room’s walls.</p><p>“Nothing?” Caius challenged after a moment.</p><p>But again, Afton didn’t speak. I only heard a faint whimper from him after that. And I was starting to get the sense that he didn’t have any kind of backbone. That, when he was faced with a conflict, he didn’t know how to do anything other than hide behind a more powerful person.</p><p>That certainly seemed to be how he handled most interpersonal conflicts—by hiding behind Chelsea. And I imagined, if he wasn’t always forced into direct combat in the sparring room, he’d use the same tactic there. When left to his own devices, he floundered in the fighting department.</p><p>I frowned. </p><p>“That’s what I thought,” Caius huffed, annoyed.</p><p>And suddenly I felt like I understood his irritation. In a coven that relied on everyone’s individual strengths, I could see why Afton’s habit of using Chelsea as a sort of shield was frustrating.</p><p>During my training in the sparring room, I’d learned that everyone had to be able to fight for themselves in a battle. The Volturi had a few members with defensive powers, that could intercede if necessary, but on the whole, they were stronger on the offensive. So, if any one member refused to pull their own weight—if they tried to hide behind someone else, or avoid the fight altogether—that could jeopardize the whole operation.  </p><p>And, in the case of the upcoming battle with the newborns in Seattle, it might even cost lives.</p><p>Caius left Afton’s room then, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound jarred me out of my thoughts momentarily. But as it echoed through the floor beneath my feet, the vibrations absorbing into the carpet, I quickly refocused.</p><p>There was no loud music to distract me after that. But I didn’t pick up my scrap of muslin off the floor again. Instead, I reviewed all of Afton’s matches in the red-plastic-coated room again. Searching. Scrutinizing. Suspecting. And when I was finished, I stared at the far wall of my bedroom in horror.</p><p>Every other member of the guard, no matter how low they ranked, had won at least a couple of matches during my time here. But the same couldn’t be said of Afton. In the entire month I’d seen him train with the others in the sparring room, I’d never seen him win once.</p><p>He’d lost to every opponent. Every time. Without fail.</p><p>And that made me worry.</p><p>
  <em>Will he survive the upcoming fight? </em>
</p><p>I didn’t think it was likely. <em>I </em>was a better fighter than him now. And he’d had a lot more training. </p><p>But then I remembered a few other things about those matches. Like how <em>nonplussed </em>about his repeated losses Afton seemed to be. Or how sometimes it didn’t even look like he was trying all that hard to begin with. He certainly surrendered quicker than anyone else.</p><p>And I wondered for a horrible minute, if that could actually be true. <em>Could Afton really not care? </em></p><p>It didn’t make sense for him not to. In just two short months we could be facing the most devastating army of vampires the world had ever seen. Even seasoned fighters like Caius were frightened by the scale that Alice predicted.</p><p><em>So why did Afton seem so… apathetic? </em>I thought, remembering his expression the last time I’d seen him defeated.<em> He has to care about improving his fighting skills, right? Or else he’ll die! </em></p><p>Then another thought occurred to me.</p><p>
  <em>Unless… he isn’t planning on fighting at all? </em>
</p><p>I decided right away I was being absurd. He wouldn’t have a choice. Aro would <em>make </em>him fight. The army Alice saw in her visions was <em>massive. </em>And we would need <em>all </em>available fighters to take them out.</p><p><em>But maybe he won’t have to fight the newborns, </em>my mind went on, chasing the dark notion down a dangerous path, <em>if he’s secretly on the <strong>other</strong> side…</em></p><p>I nipped that thought in the bud before it was fully formed. There was absolutely no way Afton was the mastermind behind the plot to destroy the Volturi. Not only did he spectacularly fail Aro’s interrogation, but Corin was right. He was, to put it bluntly, a moron.</p><p>But I was having a hard time making sense of his behavior in a different scenario.</p><p>I couldn’t imagine that anyone—incompetent at fighting or not—wouldn’t want to improve their skills if they knew a big battle was coming. Everyone else, despite hundreds of years of training, was constantly evaluating their weaknesses and trying to tackle them. But Afton, suspiciously, didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get better. And I couldn’t help but think that there was a reason for that.</p><p><em>What if it isn’t him, </em>my brain posited next, <em>but Chelsea is the mastermind?</em></p><p>I stopped short. That actually made more sense than I liked.</p><p>If that were the case, she wouldn’t make Afton fight. After all, she wouldn’t want her <em>mate </em>getting hurt. And the newborns would be more than enough to take us down.</p><p>My head spun, making me feel dizzy.</p><p>I had no proof. Absolutely none. And there was a significant likelihood that I was simply being paranoid. But the more I thought about it, the more all the pieces fit.</p><p>Aro hadn’t interrogated her, so there was still a chance that she was guilty. Perhaps, if she’d been someone else, I could be confident that Aro would have caught something in the many, many times he’d touched her hands since 1948. But Chelsea had been around Aro the longest. So even if she couldn’t read minds, she would have the best sense, through trial and error, of what she could slip past his notice. And there was a high likelihood that she’d also mastered the same art as Jane—of making her mind go blank when she wanted to set in motion her dastardly plans.</p><p>She certainly was smart enough. I knew that much.</p><p>Then there was the issue of Marcus. But that was easily dealt with, too. Chelsea had an emotional ability that I realized could, potentially, allow her to mess with the perceptions of his gift. And if there were any mistakes in her emotional manipulation, she could, like the bright line that still connected him to his mate, chalk it up as simply another one of his gift’s egregious flaws.</p><p>Alice was a bit harder to circumvent. But Chelsea would have been around when Alice was first inducted, and all throughout her service to the Volturi. Which would have given her ample opportunity to play with the blind spots in Alice’s visions as well. If she was the culprit, she probably started testing her limits with small, innocuous decisions—things that wouldn’t matter if Alice saw her doing. Then, when she was confident that she could avoid being seen clearly, she could move on to making her real plans.</p><p>And it wasn’t just that she was capable of dodging everyone’s powers. I realized, the more I thought it through, that if Chelsea was the culprit, it made sense of the uncertain motive Alice had seen. Chelsea probably had hundreds, if not thousands-of-years-worth of resentment toward Aro—things that would make her, on her angrier days, want to destroy him and his organization. But she also probably had a lot of good memories too. And I doubted Alice’s visions of calamity were helping her be firm in her convictions.</p><p>Extinction was rather a lot more than she’d bargained for, I imagined.  </p><p>And it even made sense of Chelsea’s sudden animosity towards me. She’d seemed nice enough, when Aro had instructed her to loosen my bonds to Edward. But once she learned that I was the one from Alice’s visions—the one who was supposed to throw a wrench in her dastardly plans, she had started glaring at me.</p><p>All this time, I’d chalked it up to a petty disagreement over rank. But it could, very well, go far deeper than that….</p><p>The only thing it didn’t explain was how the newborn army was being created in Seattle if Chelsea wasn’t there. But Alice had said that wasn’t <em>necessary</em>. The dominos had already been set to fall. So, the culprit didn’t have to stand around and watch.</p><p>She could be right here, under our noses, pretending to be our ally.</p><p>My whole frame shook with anger. And I was about to bolt out the door and tell Aro. But just as my hand curled around the doorknob, the metal crumpling in my haste, Alice opened it from the other side.</p><p>Eyes wide with shock, I let go of the handle and stood back, letting her come in. “Alice, what’s up?”</p><p>“Theodore will be arriving in three hours,” she blurted out suddenly.  </p><p>I cocked an eyebrow. “And?”</p><p>Three hours was a little early to go congregate in the conference room. So, I suspected she had some other reason for telling me this.</p><p>“When he comes, we can learn who touched the chain Jasper brought,” Alice explained further, in a rapid, clipped voice.  </p><p>I blinked, once, confused. I still didn’t understand what Alice was getting at.</p><p>Alice, realizing she was going to have to spell it out for me, sighed. “I know what you’re planning to say to Aro, but save it. That chain has come into contact with our culprit. So, if we learn who stole the chain from our contractors and it’s <em>not</em> her….”</p><p>
  <em>Oh, I get it now. </em>
</p><p>“…Then I’ll have strained the relationship between Aro and Chelsea, and possibly jeopardized the entire institution of the Volturi for nothing.”   </p><p> Alice nodded. “<em>Exactly</em>.”</p><p>“And if it is her?” I challenged. “If Chelsea is the one who stole the chain?”</p><p>Alice shuddered, disturbed by the thought. “Then I guess you can say ‘I told you so’ while Aro and Caius tear her apart and set her on fire, and the rest of us worry about how we’ll get along without her.”</p><p>I grimaced. That was a cold comfort. But Alice wasn’t wrong.</p><p>If I was right—and I truly believed I was, even if I hated the idea—there would be little solace in having that information verified. There would only be a sea of betrayed faces. The pungent aroma of gasoline and smoke. And the sound of crackling flames.</p>
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